So Cold the Night
by Helen Pattskyn
Summary: AU MAJOR crossover fic. in my rewrite of the Third Season of Beauty and the Beast, Vincent recieves help from some unexpected places...
1. Default Chapter

This is a **Third Season** story, but Diana is involved because I always liked her as a character.

My favourite fanfiction is the **crossover**…

Included here in you will find characters – not mine – from Dick Wolf's Law and Order SVU, Beauty and the Beast (obviously) and characters inspired by James O'Barr's Crow – as well as Kenneth Johnson's television series, Alien Nation (for those unfamiliar, simply assume that in 1994, a space ship carrying a quarter of a million aliens crash landed in California… the Tenctonese, or New Comers, have slowly been integrated into American society, although few have made it as far East as New York.)

-

This story is rated **M**. There is some **strong language, adult situations and violence** – mostly centred around my Crow character (who is indeed mine, although her concept comes from James O'Barr's wonderful graphic novels, which of course inspired an equally wonderful movie. Above all, I have endeavoured to remain true the original characters – and I hope that you will enjoy what I've done with them!)

Please also allow me to apologize in advance for the formatting fubars in this one... it was the first thing I posted here and I honestly have not been able to make the time to go back and fix some of the misakes.

As always, I appreciate reviews both positive and negative, especailly on older pieces like this. That said, I wrote the original version of this over 20 years ago (SVU charactesr were added later). I'm not especially likely to change it just because someone says I should.

**-**

**So Cold the Night**

…**a retelling of the beginning of the end…**

_The original episode, entitled Though Lovers Be Lost, aired in December of 1989_

Some areas of the story presented here may be truncated because it happens exactly as the story as it was already presented. Rather than throw the original script back at you, I've chosen to abridge certain areas to get to the "new stuff".

**Dedication: in honour and loving memory of my Grandmother, **

**Mrs. Helen Garzia Braund**

**-**

**Prologue:**

April, 1989

_We walk the narrow path_

_Beneath the smoking skies_

_Sometimes we can barely tell the difference_

_Between the darkness and the light_

_Do we have faith_

_In what we believe?_

_The truest test is when we cannot_

_When we cannot see…_

_I hear the pounding feet in the streets below and the women cry and the children moan and there's something wrong and it's hard to believe that love will prevail…_

_It won't rain all the time,_

_The sky won't fall forever_

_And though the night seems long_

_Your tears won't fall forever…_

_Jane Siberry_

"Look, kid, I can't help you if you won't help yourself!" The big dark skinned cop slammed his open palm on the table, frustration and anger showing clearly on his face and in the tone of his voice. He knew the kid was innocent – that bastard Moreno was railroading him. Seventeen and the death penalty was being argued – the system was screwed. The kid was being screwed – and he seemed content to just sit back and take it.

"Don't know what you want me to say," the boy shrugged, nonchalantly; he looked bored. He was a good looking kid - or at least he used to be. It didn't really look as if he'd been taking care of himself; he clearly hadn't shaved in over a week. The effect was more scruffy than grown up.

"Tell me you didn't kill your sister!"

"Evidence says I did. Guess evidence don't lie."

"Damn it – you're on trial for your life – doesn't that mean anything to you?"

Andy Zito lowered his voice, leaning in close. "Look, you're a good cop. Stay out of it. For your own good. YO!" the last was yelled to the guard outside the door. "I'm ready to go back to my cell. Peace," he told the detective as he walked out.

"Yeah, man, peace."Odafin Tutuola - Fin to his friends -watched the kid go. There was no way in hell he was going to drop it. No way in hell.

-

Fin sat at Kate Zito's grave; the girl had been fourteen. She'd been tortured, raped and doped up with so much morphine she died of an overdose. The soil over her grave was still fresh from the burial; it was damp from last night's rain. The earth crumbled through his fingers, smelling of green moss and grass. Damn it. Damn it all to hell and back again! Fin's gut told him that the kid was innocent - told him that something, somewhere, was very, very wrong.

But the evidence pointed the other way. Zito's prints were on the bottles of morphine that he denied were his, despite their being found in his room. There was no blood on his cloths and none in his basement, where the body had been found but what did that mean, really? Cloths could be desposed of, blood could be cleaned up; hell, maybe she had been killed somewhere else and dumped there. It sure looked that way - not that it seemed to matter to anyone else.

Fin and his partner had been called in because of the morphine connection; IAB was poking around too. They'd been sniffing around for a while - Fin knew that something was up. Then he and his partner got told to go mind their own business; Andy Zito, who had been protesting his innocence to anyone who would listen, had suddenly clammed up, making the D.A.'s case look stronger. Now, Zito was cool. He was collected. He was silent. He was ready to die – but Fin could see in his eyes that he hadn't given up. It just didn't make sense. "This whole god damned city doesn't make any sense any more" he said to the big black bird that was watching him from the branch of a big old sycamore tree. It squawked, as if in agreement and Fin laughed at himself for talking to a bird. Hell, some days he thought he was screwed up.

"So why is your brother so eager to die?" Fin asked the grave. "If you're dead – and got no family – what else is worth dying for? A girlfriend, maybe?" his pager went off. What now? He recognized his captain's home number, and frowned more deeply. The place wasn't that far from where he was, so he drove the fifteen minutes to talk to her in person.

-

"Something told me you'd show up instead of calling," Joanna Avery opened the door to admit the detective.

"What's up?"

"I wanted to be the one who told you. Andy Zito's dead."

"Dead – how?"

"He killed himself. Slit his own throat. Looks like it's over."

"It ain't over. It won't ever be over - not til I know what really happened to Kate Zito."

"Do you need to take a coupla days off"

"No. I'll be fine" he lied. It started to rain again.

-

Fintook himself home – he kissed his sleeping son's forehead and climbed into his own cold bed; outside, the crow sat perched on his window sill…

Not over. Not over...still not over…but the next chapter wouldn't be written for some time. Time, needed to heal. Time, needed to get strong.

Time. There was always time. And until the time was right, there was only watching and waiting…the big black bird flapped away to the grave of the dead girl…to wait…until she was ready to return…until she was ready to kill the men who had killed her…the men who had killed her brother…men who would kill and kill again until someone was strong enough to set things right…

_Gabriel,_ the crow whispered to the girl's spirit. _His name is Gabriel_. _He's dead already – he may not know it yet, but he's dead already…isn't he?_

_-_

**Chapter One**

December, 1989

_When the dark wood fell before me_

_And all the paths were overgrown_

_When the priests of pride say there is no other way_

_I tilled the sorrows of stone_

_I did not believe because I could not see_

_Though you came to me in the night_

_When the dawn seemed forever lost_

_You showed me your love in the light of the stars_

_Cast your eyes on the ocean_

_Cast your soul to the sea_

_When the dark night seems endless_

_Please remember me_

_Then the mountain rose before me_

_By the deep well of desire_

_From the fountain of forgiveness_

_Beyond the ice and fire_

_Cast your eyes on the ocean_

_Cast your soul to the sea_

_When the dark night seems endless_

_Please remember me_

_Loreena McKennit_

Pregnant. The word echoed in Catherine Chandler's mind, even though the reality of it still hadn't settled on her. Pregnant. She was pregnant. With Vincent's baby. There was of course no other possibility – yet the possibility seemed impossible to wasn't as ifthe basic concept of the birds and the bees waslost on her – and in the heat of the moment things had happened – wonderful, magical things…things that might be more wonderful if he could remember them. If they hadn't come at the end of such a cold and terrible darkness in his life. It was a darkness that had nearly consumed him – even so, he was still suffering it's after effects. Perhaps she should wait to tell him – wait until he was better. And yet – what would this pregnancy bring?

-

She could tell, even as she stepped into his chamber, that something was wrong. Vincent looked up. Ever since that night in the Darkness, he had looked upon her with mixed joy and sorrow. And there seemed to be no cure for his pain. "I need to talk to you," Catherine began, uncertain exactly what it was she wanted to say.

"I can see that," he told her gently; everything about Catherine's body language told him that something was amiss – yet he could not feel it. He could not feel her. He hadn't been able to feel her since the night he succumbed to the Darkness; and still he had no memory of it, only waking up in her arms. She was a stranger to him – a stranger whose face he knew, whose heart he trusted – but he had not even remembered her name until she told it to him. Though she had promised she wouldn't let him forget, he wondered, looking at her now, if she wasn't having second thoughts about them. After all, she was beautiful – more, she was normal. Her world was far above them, in the city…his was Below. He would always be confined to the Tunnels and the Darkness…how could this radiant creature of light bear to be in his company? "There was a time when I would have come to you," he tried to express what he was feeling, knowing that there had been a time when she would just know, just understand – when he would know what she was feeling. A time when he would have known for sure that she wasn't thinking of ending their fragile relationship.

"What do you mean?" Catherine took off her coat and came to sit next to him – to be near the man she loved more than life itself. He was so broody – so much a shadow of himself. Would her news bring delight – or dread?

"Catherine, I look on your face and I can see your unrest. There was a time when I could have felt it, here," with gentle fingers, he touched her heart. She did not flinch or back away. "There was a time when I felt what you were feeling, everything...across a city...across a continent. Now I have to wait for you to tell me. There was a time when I could feel you coming to me, feel you nearing the tunnels. There was a source of great joy radiating from you, filling me with joy. Tonight, I waited until the sentries sent me a message to tell me that you were here. I had no other choice. I did not know you were here."

"I don't understand – what's different now?"

"Its gone."

"What's gone?"

"Our connection...our connection, our bond."

"You've been through a great deal. It will return with time."

"No. I don't think so," Vincent shook his head, sadly.

"Have faith that it will."

"It is lost to me. Everything has a price."

"A price? Price for what?" She asked.

"For this new peace – this contentment that has come over me. But Catherine, what have I lost? I have become so accustomed to feeling you – and now there is only emptiness. What if what I lost is more important that what I've gained."

"I don't think that it is lost. Even if it is, it was a gift. It came to you in a life when it was needed, you used it, and perhaps it is no longer needed."

"More than once it saved your life."

"Maybe the gift will return to you in another form, something you never dreamed of. Vincent, your power was extraordinary, but it has nothing to do with what we are together, what we feel for each other, that is our connection. And if one gift is lost, there are other gifts waiting to be found. Believe me, Vincent, there are so many gifts waiting for you...all you have to do is...just open your arms and receive them," she leaned in closer to him, rewarded by the strength of his arms around her slender shoulders. "So many gifts," Catherine murmured, listening to the quiet beating of his heart. He was so troubled – still hurting from what had happened. No, she decided, tonight wasn't the time to tell him. There would be time – plenty of time. At least three months before she began showing – she wouldn't wait that long, but a little longer wouldn't hurt.

"What was it you wanted to tell me?" Vincent asked, after a long while of enjoying the warmth of her body against his.

"It isn't important that I tell you now – it can wait until next time. I should go – I have a lot of work to do tomorrow – don't worry," she leaned up and kissed his cheek. "Everything is going to be fine."

"If you say it will be fine, than I believe you."

Catherine smiled, "I brought you a gift," she handed him the simply wrapped book.

"Catherine," he began – her generosity was overwhelming. "A new journal?"

"It seemed appropriate."

"Yes. It is beautiful," Vincent opened the front cover. She had written a message to him:

_With love all things are possible – _

_forever, Catherine. Forever?_

Hope swelled in his heart. "Forever"

"Yes. Forever." Catherine smiled up at him.

Forever. He pulled her close.

"I should go soon - it's getting late."

"I'll walk you home."

"I'd like that," Catherine snuggled into his arms for another delightful moment. Each time she left him, it was harder to go – perhaps with this new development she would come Below. She thought about the possibility, as they began the long walk towards her home Above. Her friends, Jenny, Nancy, Rita – Joe. She would miss them, especially Joe, but even moving here, she wouldn't be gone forever; she would visit. This would be her home, and Above would be the place that she visited… and there was at least the possibility that the child would look like his or her father, so really there was no choice, no way Vincent could argue with her over the decision… perhaps she should call Peter Alcott in the morning. He would tell her to talk to Father, of course – and she knew that she should. But first she would talk to Peter – find out if she should quit now or if she could keep working, at least until they got the s.o.b. who hurt Joe. Then she would quit.

But before that, she would tell Vincent about the baby, and together they would tell Father. That was the way these things should be done. Then, she would find some way to say good bye to Joe, at least for a little while – and she would come Below, to have her child. And everything would be all right.

"You seem happy," Vincent observed, as they walked towards the catacombs beneath her apartment building.

"That's because I'm with you. I love you, Vincent."

Her words melted his fears and he pulled her close to him, his arm around her shoulders as they walked; perhaps the Darkness was indeed behind them…

-

"Pregnant, Cathy, are you certain?" There was only one possibility of who the father could be and it scared him. And yet…a child. Vincent had such a gentle heart…but that was assuming Cathy actually _wanted_ this baby…

Catherine laughed into the receiver, "Of course I'm sure. I gave blood – a nurse told me that I shouldn't have in my condition. That's how I found out."

"What are you going to do?"

"That's why I called you. What are pregnant women supposed to do?"

"Catherine – I meant, are you going to – carry to full term?" Peter held his breath. Of course if she didn't want to carry the child, he couldn't blame her. He would be more than happy to see to the details – no, that wasn't true, he would hate to do it. But he would do it, as a friend and as a doctor, and to protect the secrets of those Below.

Catherine stopped short. She'd never considered any other possibility _but _carrying the child to full term. She said as much to Peter. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't think I need to warn you about all the possible complications. We don't know – we don't know much of anything about Vincent or how he came to be. Have you told anyone else yet?"

"No. I was going to tell Vincentyesterday – but I couldn't find the words. Please don't say anything to anyone, especially Father."

"I suppose this could come under the umbrella of patient doctor privilege – but you can't keep this a secret for long."

"I won't. I promise. What should I do in the mean time?"

"Get plenty of rest – make sure to eat sensibly – no caffeine, no alcohol, no excess sugar or salt, no artificial sweeteners, try to avoid situations where people are smoking and try to avoid stress. I know there's a lot going on at the D.A.'s office right now – but you have to take care of yourself. You and the baby come first, now, understand?"

"Yes."

"Good. I'll phone in a prescription for some pre-natal vitamins and we'll see about getting you in for an ultrasound after hours. Just in case."

"Just in case," she agreed - there were so many things that 'just in case' covered... "Thank you, Peter."

"You're welcome. How was Vincent, when you saw him? Is he doing better?"

"His memory seems to be returning – there are still some gaps. I think – I may have to – tell him what happened, in the cave. I don't think he remembers. But I think the Darkness is really behind us. This baby – this could be a new beginning for both of us." Reflexively, she touched her stomach. Catherine knew that she wouldn't be able to feel anything there for some months, but she knew that there was a new life inside of her. A new life and a new hope.

"I'm glad. I'm glad you're happy about the baby. I was afraid – you might not be. This is a very tumultuous time in your life. There are a lot of women who might not welcome a child at a time like this."

"Nothing could make me want to give up this baby. Nothing."

_But of course we all know that the Darkness was far from behind them…as she is heading to her car in a parking garage, Catherine is kidnapped by the enigmatic "Gabriel," and Vincent of course is unable to sense her and has no idea of what is happening. Peter Alcott is the first person to realize that something is amiss – but other than reporting her missing to both those Below and the authorities Above, he keeps his word and his silence regarding her pregnancy for several weeks…until he can bear the silence no longer. _

"Peter – how long have you known? Are you absolutely sure?" Jacob demanded in hushed tones – hushed for fear that someone might over hear.

"Two weeks. I know I should have said something sooner – but I was hoping that with all the stress maybe she'd just gone to stay with one of her friends for a couple of days. She sounded like she needed some time to think."

"About what?"

"About how to tell you, for one thing."

"You mean – she was planningon _keeping_the baby?"

"Nothing could have made her do otherwise. She loves him, Jacob. More now than ever."

Jacob Wells felt shame for thinking otherwise; of course she wouldn't have wanted to terminate the pregnancy. "I'm almost afraid to tell him. But I'm more afraid not to."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"No – he's not here now, anyway. Ever since she vanished, he's been searching. For all the good it's done. He can't sense her, Peter. He used to be able to feel her – to find her wherever she was. Now there's nothing – maybe it's the pregnancy. He's had dreams – terrible dreams – we were afraid the illness was returning. But – oh who knows. We know so little about where he comes from or who he really is – who his parents were and how he came to be. There seem to be no answers to be had."

"Than we'll just do the best we can."

The two men made their way to the Great Hall for the Winterfest celebration; it was the most subdued Winterfest that either had ever seen…no one wanted to celebrate and no one felt festive.

-

"A child?" Vincent nearly fell into his chair.

"Your child, Vincent. Your child."

"How is this possible?"

"It must have happened that night when she came to you alone in the cave," Jacob replied, helpless. "The night the Darkness overtook you. You remember nothing"

"It does not matter that I don't remember. I will find them. I must."

"I know you will," Jacob rested his hand on Vincent's shoulder. _Please, Dear God, silently he prayed, I've never been a terribly religious man - but if you are looking out for us - look out for Catherine now. And the baby she carries...bring her back to us before it's too late. Bring her back to us...bring them both back to us._

Outside, Above, the snow began to fall...

-

In his apartment, far across the city, Elliot Burch drank a third glass of scotch; his shirt lay unbuttoned, his tie undone. He stared out at the brightly lit city, able to see only the darkness through eyes made blood-shot by tears and by lack of sleep. He let the glass fall from his hand as he walked to the window; she was out there somewhere, he could feel it in his bones...but where?

So far the private investigators he'd hired to find her had turned up nothing - and the more time went on, the worse it looked..."I won't give up on you, Cathy. I won't" he promised the darkness.

-

"Devin? What is it? What's the matter?" Seeing Devin standing there at the threshold, his jaw slacked open, it was obvious that something was very, very wrong. He held something in his hands – it looked like a letter - and his hands were shaking. It didn't look like a bill or solicitation…Jonathon Hancockknew just enough about human emotions to see that Devin lwas ready to cry, even though he knew his roommate well enough to know that that wasn't likely to happen. Human males were strange that way.

Devin Wells looked up at his roommate, a young Tenctonese man (well, young by their standards, he was ten years older than Devin), as if he was suddenly aware of the Jonathon's presence – he truly hadn't noticed it before. He'd started reading the letter walking back from the mailbox – and the more he read, the colder the pit of his stomach became. Missing. Cathy missing…and with child. "It's my brother – this is from my brother," he said weakly. It had been a while since he'd heard from Vincent – since he'd written. But it was like that between them – there could be months of silence and still all was well…only this time things weren't well.

"You never told me you had a brother. Do you not get along with him?" Jonathon Hancock asked.

"No. I mean – no we get along. It's hard to explain. I have to go away. He needs me."

"Oh." Devin Wells had been the first human to truly accept him. Sure, others tried – they meant well. But when he had arrived to answer the room for rent ad, he hadn't expected the human to actually rent to him. Four others had turned him down already – they weren't allowed to, according to the people at the relocation centre. But they did anyway. Devin hadn't even looked at him as if he was different. It was like Devin didn't look at his outsides – he just smiled and asked Jonathon about his job and about school and if he could pay the rent on time or minded that he didn't want a lot of loud parties. That had been two years ago. While he wasn't sure whether or not Devin thought of him as a friend, he had come to cherish the quietness that they shared; Devin didn't ask him a lot of questions and in turn, he respected his roommate's privacy, even when it seemed a little strange. Like now. "When will you be back?"

"I don't know – but look, I've got enough money in the bank to cover my half the rent – don't worry, I wouldn't just run out on you."

"That's not what worries me, Devin. I've never seen you looking so despondent before."

Despondent – there was a good word. "I'm not sure I've ever this despondent before."

"Where does your brother live?"

"New York."

"That's a long way. It's cold there. Will you call me when you arrive, to let me know you've made it safely?"

Devin had to smile, despite himself; Johnston was the first person outside the Tunnels who had really taken an interest in his well-being. He was the first person – other than Helpers and people like Cathy Chandler – who seemed more concerned for others than for themselves. "I'll call. I won't be able to keep in much contact – but I'll call when I get there to let you know I've arrived in one piece."

"That is good. I don't think humans are meant to function if they are in more than one piece."

Devin laughed, "No – no we aren't." He went to begin packing, surprised at being followed.

"Devin – do not worry about the money. I have some saved too. You'll need money for your trip."

"Not much. Just enough for the flight. I'm going to write you a check for the next couple month's rent. If you don't cash it, I'm going to be really pissed at you."

"I don't want you to be mad – but are you really going to be gone that long?"

"I don't honestly know."

"Can you tell me what's happened? Is your brother all right?"

"Not really."

_Pilgrim, how you journey  
on the road you chose  
to find out why the winds die  
and where the stories go.  
All days come from one day  
that much you must know,  
you cannot change what's over  
but only where you go.  
One way leads to diamonds,  
one way leads to gold,  
another leads you only  
to everything you're told.  
In your heart you wonder  
which of these is true;  
the road that leads to nowhere,  
the road that leads to you. _

_Will you find the answer  
in all you say and do?  
Will you find the answer  
In you?  
Each heart is a pilgrim,  
each one wants to know  
the reason why the winds die  
and where the stories go.  
Pilgrim, in your journey  
you may travel far,  
for pilgrim it's a long way  
to find out who you are...  
Pilgrim, it's a long way  
to find out who you are..._

_Enya_

-

The night was cold and dark - and Devin was not at all surprised to find his brother waiting for him at the strom drain entrance, in the park.

"Devin" Vincent greeted him with one, pain filled word.

"Vincent."

They stared at one another for a long and painful moment, before accepting the warmth of friendship and all that it might hope to offer. "I'm here," Devin made no more attempt to hold in his tears. "I'm here. I'll help – anything I can do, I'll help you find her." He held his brother tightly - and was held up by Vincent's great strength. Together - together at least they could hold each other up.

"You're here. That in itself is a help. Thank you."


	2. Two

**Chapter Two**:

Aptil 1990

Exhaustion showed on the face of the otherwise pretty red head. She wasn't sure when she'd slept last - it had to have been over a week ago. She would nap - but sleep? So was it exhaustion or the desperatoin of the man sitting across from her that was so upsetting? Or was it that she wished that she really could take the case of every person who needed her? "Look, Maxwell, I wish I could help, but I've already got a case I'm working."

Joe Maxwell ground his teeth in frustration. Everyone knew that Diana Bennett was the best – the very best – at what she did. "I know – but Cathy is a friend – a good friend. She's been missing for five months and no one knows where to look for her. It's like the city just swallowed her up whole."

"This kid is missing too," Diana showed him a picture of a five-year-old boy. "He's only been gone for a week – there's still a chance he might be found alive."

"Are you saying there's no chance Cathy is still alive?" How many times had he wondered that himself…but he couldn't force himself to face the possibility. Not now. Not ever.

"All I'm saying is that this kid has been gone for a lot less time your friend's been gone. The chances of finding him alive that much better than finding her. I'm sorry."

"Yeah. Me too." Joe turned to leave, feeling as if he'd just lost his last decentchance at finding Cathy; it had been a long shot. Bennett had this thing where she only worked one case at a time – and when you were as good as she was, you pretty much could call your own shots.

"Wait – look – if there still aren't any answers when I finish up with this boy, I'll look for your friend."

"Thanks," the word felt hollow. There was no telling how long it would be before she had the time to help – and what if between now and then Cathy…died…Joe closed his eyes. The last time he'd seen her she'd come to visit him in the hospital...damn it, where was she? People didn't just vanish!

-

"Vincent, you must rest. You must take care of yourself." Jacobgazed upon the face ofhis son. Vincenthaddropped weight, his cloths hung about him, ill fitting; there was a darkness about him, a cloud that would not lift. Not like before – this was sorrow – an all pervading sadness that would not go away. His eyes were dulled by it – his spirit diminished. Even Devin's return had done nothing to lift his spirit or ease his pain.

"Father, how can I rest when I know that she's out there, somewhere?"

"How can you be sure she's – that she's still alive?" There. He'd finally spoken his worst fear aloud.

"You must not even think that she is not," Vincent's voice was thick with pain.

"But how can you know for sure?"

"I know."

"You can feel her?" Jacob asked hopefully – had Vincent's sense of Catherine returned, finally, after all this time?

"No. But I know that she is still alive. I know she hasn't given up hope or faith. I know that she is waiting for me. I will not – I cannot – give up."

Jacob sighed, sadly; there was no consoling his son. "Still, you must rest. Just for a little while. You must take care of yourself – you're still not fully recovered from your illness."

"I may never be." With that, he was gone, gone above. He went as he went every night, to search the streets, wandering aimlessly – hopefully searching for one clue – a glimpse, a scent – anything that might lead him to her. Tonight, however, his search wasn't aimless…tonight he had an appointment to keep.

Vincent waited until he was almost at street level before turning and speaking into the darkness. "You shouldn't be following me."

"Why not? – you let me," Devin stepped from the shadows; he was a few years older than Vincent, and in the past few years had let his dark hair grow long.

"How do you know I was allowing you to follow?" It was almost like the game they would play as children - only as children, Devin was the leader and Vincent the follower...

"I could never have kept up with you if you hadn't let me," Devin was shorter than Vincent –most people were shorter than Vincent. "What are you doing here anyway?– we're under one of the worst neighbourhoods I can think of."

"I'm meeting someone. You should go back."

"If you really believed that, you wouldn't have let me follow you."

"No. I suppose not."

"So who are we meeting?"

"_I_ am meeting Elliot Burch. If he comes."

"I think he'll come." Devin melted back into the shadows. He didn't really know what he was doing here – if anything really bad happened, it would be Vincent taking care of him, not the other way around…but at least being here, Devin didn't feel quite as useless as he'd felt the last few months, because there was absolutely nothing he could do to help his brother and they both knew it.

-

Burch looked at the address again – it was the third time and he knew he wouldn't see anything now that he hadn't seen the first two times he'd double-checked it.

This was the place – only this wasn't any place at all. The building looked as if it hadn't been occupied in a decade or more – he was glad he'd brought the gun. Maybe Manning was right – he should have brought more than just a gun, maybe he should have brought back up. But the note had said to come alone.

"In here," said the voice; it was barely a whisper.

"Vincent?" Burch queried. The note asking him to meet here had been signed Vincent. It had stated simply that the writer – a man with neat, efficient penmanship and an understanding of quality stationary – wanted to talk to him about Cathy.

"In here."

At least 'in here' would be warmer and dryer than out there - it had been a damp and miserable spring. His gloved hand securely wrapedaround the grip of the pistol, Elliot Burch made his way into the darkened building. It reeked of urine and garbage; he was just as glad he couldn't see the floor. It felt sticky underneath the soles of his shoes; even after his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he couldn't see anything useful. "Is there some reason we're meeting here instead of at a bar or a coffee shop?" He asked the darkness.

"I have my reasons. Just as you have your reasons for coming."

"I'm a friend of Cathy's. I want to know where she is – what's happened to her. If you know something –?"

"The police will never find her."

"I'll never give up. It doesn't seem like you will either," Elliot said; he heard the pain in the other man's voice - it was almost like a tangible thing hanging in the air between them. It was an echo of his own pain - and his love for her.

"No, I will never give up – even when those around me have begun to," said Vincent. The truth was that Father wasn't the only person Below who had begun to give up; most of them had. No one would admit it, but he could see the pity in their eyes. They felt as if they knew, but could not tell him, that she was gone – only they didn't know, they had simply stopped hoping; all but a few. Mouse never stopped looking, Pascal kept a constant ear out, sending out word to the helpers Above every day to keep watching, keep listening. Keep praying. Jamie searched as diligently as Mouse – and the children still hoped, even when the adults could only fear. "I will never give up," he repeatd. "That is why I contacted you."

"Oh? What made you even think I'd come?" Burch shivered in the cold.

"Because you love her too, Elliot. There are places you can go that I cannot – and there are places I can go that you cannot. Perhaps it is possible that between the two of us, we can do what the police cannot."

"You – you're her mystery man. She never called you by name – but she said she was seeing somebody." Jealousy burned in his heart – he wished it didn't – not that he hated that particular emotion, or the emotion that had borne it (love) – it's just that love and jealousy were such complicated things. Elliot's world had been so simple before he met Cathy Chandler. What he wanted, he got – either by hook or by crook. He didn't consider himself greedy – just a prime example of capitalism working the way it was supposed to work. Then she came into his life – and everything changed. Forever. Only she would never love him because she loved somebody else. This guy. Vincent. Hell, Elliot didn't even know if it was his first name or his last name.

"I have loved her for a very long time," Vincent said, vaguely aware of the emotions that clashed against themselves in the heart of this stranger.

"So what's with all the cloak and dagger – why meet in the dark like this?"Elliot would give almost anything to get a look at the guy – he must be special. She'd said he was special – but he must be truly special if he hadn't given up on finding her, either. Even the police had given up.

"I have my reasons. Will you help me?"

"Like you said – I love her too. What can I do?"

"Before she vanished, Catherine told me she had seen a book. A ledger. It implicated a man named Moreno in Joe Maxwell's injury. She told me about it. The book itself has been lost."

"You sure know how to drop a bombshell," Elliot said, startled. The other was nonplussed, silent in the darkness. "Don't you know who Moreno is?"

"Catherine's boss. At the District Attorney's office. He is Joe Maxwell's boss also. And from what Catherine had said, heis Joe Maxwell's friend. That was why she did not tell him of this ledger - she wanted to be certain of what she had found."

"So why haven't you come forward before now?"

"Because I was unsure who to trust. I do not even know if I can trust you – I can only hope. I do not know if this missing ledger or her suspicions have anything to do with what has happened to Catherine – but as time wears on – hope grows thinner and I must take the chance that you will do what is right, now. As you have in the past, when she needed you."

"In the past?"

"When she came to you needing equipment – there had been a cave in. Good people were trapped – you saved them with your generosity. You saved my life that day."

Elliot didn't know whether to laugh or cry; he could have eliminated his only rival and hadn't even known…even so, if he had refused her, how could he have ever looked Cathy in the eyes again? He couldn't refuse her anything. And based on that, he knew he couldn't refuse this man anything either. "I'll talk to Maxwell – Cathy trusts him. He's her friend – I'm not sure I can convince him that his boss is crooked – but I'll try."

"Thank you."

"How can I contact you – if I need to see you again?" Figuratively anyway – he still couldn't see much of anything, just the silhouette of a big man clinging to the shadows. "I hope you don't expect me to come back here…?"

"No. I will find another place."

"You could just give me a phone number."

"That is not possible. Good night, Elliot," and with that, he was gone, melted into the darkness…

-

"What do you think?" Vincent asked of Devin, as soon as they had both reached the safety of the Tunnels.

"I think you made the right choice. But why didn't you tell me about this ledger before now? I know Joe Maxwell, fromwhen I worked at the D.A.'s office. I might have been able to help."

"I was hoping – hoping that I might not have to involve Joe Maxwell at all. I knew if I told you about it, you would go straight to him. Now I fear I may have made a mistake – that if I'd said something sooner –"

"Don't you dare give up!" Devintold him. "Don't you ever dare give up."

"I know she is still alive, Devin – but if I had said something of this sooner – perhaps she would already be back safely in my arms, instead of out there, somewhere. Alone."

"She's not alone. She knows she has you. And she has your baby. It's going to be all right. We'll find her. Together, we'll find her."

-

_a few days later..._

"Are you out of your mind, Burch?" Joe wanted to deck him, standing there in his five hundred dollar suit, like he owned the whole world…Joe wanted to throw him out of his apartment without bothering to open the door first. "Where the hell is this coming from?"

"I'm sorry. I can't tell you that," Elliot hadn't expected a warm reception. He'd sent his P.I., Cleon Manning, looking for evidence that might link Moreno to anything shady. It was well hidden, but there was at least enough to make someone like Maxwell look at his boss in a new light. He hoped. Loyalty could be a blinding thing. "I can only say that my source has no reason to lie - and every reason to want the truth to come out about Moreno."

"Well – you gotta tell me something if you want me to believe that my boss is – crooked." Joe could barely say the word.

"A friend of Catherine's sent me looking at him, Maxwell."

"Cathy's – what do you know about Cathy?"

"I don't know any more than you do. But I know she was onto Moreno when she vanished. It might be connected. It might not." He handed over the painfully thin manila envelope, hoping it was enough evidence to convince Maxwell. "Read it. Draw your own conclusions – just remember – this was her idea. And now she's missing."

After Burch, and his five hundred dollar suit, left, Joe sat down and read what the guy had given him…and he had to admit that there might be something to it…but not enough for him to really do much…at least not on his own. Not without something more to go on…if Cathy were here…but she wasn't here. She was missing. Joe felt that helpless desperation welling up in him again - he got up and snagged a beer from the fridge.

_Was this what you meant when you talked about having secrets_,he wondered, remembering his last conversation with Cathy. She'd said she was seeing someone – someone special. He couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy, even now – could that someone be Burch? He knew they'd had a fling – what she ever saw in a guy like that, he'd never know. "Then again, it's the kind of guy I betyou've always dated. Just look at whereyou come from," Joe said, as if she was really able to hear him. He could hear her response - it would probably have just been a laugh or one of her looks... Joegazed out over the city.Cathy and Burch...anything was possible...

Joe hadbeen to her apartment – _his_ little hole in the wall was nothing compared to that joint. Still – she didn't act like she came from money. She was so down to earth – so generous. If she thought there was something crooked about Moreno – why hadn't she said something to him? Maybe she needed more evidence - more time ? "Maybe – too many maybes and what ifs." Like what if she was seeing Burch – and why would it matter to him? She wasn't anything to him – not anything more than a friend anyway.

Sure, there had been a time – he'd tried to ask her out – she was pretty, smart, warm… But she was too busy to date – at least too busy to date him. They'd been friends – no there was no past tense about it. They_were_ friends. So why had she kept so many secrets from him…?

Joe grabbed his coat and headed out the door; there was one person in that envelope full of almost nothing that Joe felt he might be able to get something straight from. He didn't know the guy – but a cop would have an answer for him.

-

Fin opened his door despite the lateness of the hour, recognizing the man on the other side easily enough. "Councilor."

"Detective Tutuola, right?"

Fin nodded. "Come in. You'll have to excuse the mess. Maid's day off," he scoffed. His wife had just packed her bags and walked out on him. Just like that - she was there one day and gone the next... or maybe there had been signs and he hadn't noticed them...she always said that he worked too much...was never there...a thousand little complaints that he had never fully heard...it was stupidly ironic that he'd hadn't been to work since the night he came home to find her gone...The only reasonFin had evenshowered and put on clean cloths today was that today was special. It was an anniversary.

"I -yeah," Joe looked around the place. It looked as if it was the maid's _month_ off... the place reeked of stale food and refuse. "Look, I'm investigating Jim Moreno." Joe forced himself to say the words out loud. "And a little bird told me you might know something."

Fin laughed despite himself. "Sure – I know the bastard set up a kid to get a needle in his arm only the kid died first. Suicide. They said."

"I wasn't on it, but I remember that case. It was tough."

"You got no idea, Councilor. Beer?"

"Yeah, sure," Joe took off his coat and trod over old pizza boxes and soiled paper plates; he had to shove week-old newspapers off the sofa justto sit. At least the offered beer wasn't Schlitz."What can you tell me about Moreno?"

"I only know what I know. Andrew Zito was a runner for this guy called Gabriel. Andrew was only doing small time stuff – he was an ok kid, but he got caught up with the wrong people – ain't that how it always goes? I never could get close to anyone higher up than a coupla button men – even O.C.B. wasn't any help. Gabriel's got his fingers into every politician in this city. Probably Moreno too – I think that's why he pushed to get Zito the death penalty – the kid probably knew something, had something. Something," he shook his head and downed his beer. Something, something, something – if only he knew what the something was, he might be able to crack this. "I wasn't the only one suspicious – and it isn't just in your office. I.A.B. was all over the squad when we were investigating Kate Zito's murder."

"Internal Affairs? So there might be cops involved."

"Everybody's involved, Maxwell. According to my wife I'm too involved," he shook his head. The truth was that the job was eating him up inside – and he was letting it. "Hell, for all I know, you're involved trying to see what I know and what I'm gonna do with it. Maybe tomorrow they'll find my body somewhere, throat slashed or o.d.'d on something. Nother beer?" he asked, getting up to get one for himself.

Joe shook his head – he'd barely drunk half of his. "You really think this thing goes that far?" He wasn't really one to buy into conspiracy theories.

"If this Gabriel can get to a D.A., who the hell else can he get to?"

"So who is he?"

"Dunno. Gabriel's not his real name – no one knows who he is or where he comes from. He's one of those enigmatic types."

"And you think he might have something to do with Catherine Chandler's disappearance?"

"He mighta killed her. Don't know." Fin shrugged, finishing off the bottle – there were only a couple more left in the fridge. "Come on, let's take a walk."

"Where to?"

"There's somebody I want you to meet. It ain't that far." He picked up the single pink rose he'd bought earlier in the day on his way out the door.

-

"Leeland Cemetery?" Joe asked. The brick wall surrounded the cemetery was crumbling and covered over by half-dead vines – ivy maybe, or grapes. The old iron gate hung rusting off it's hinges. The sun was nearly down, and the closest street lights were all burned out. They were in one of the worst parts of town – taking the subway to get here, he'd been just as happy to be in the company of a very big, very scary looking black man. Then, walking through six blocks of abandoned, crumbling houses and burned out factories, Joewasn't all that sure that Tutuola would be much protection; there was something about the entire neighbourhood that gave him the heeby-geebies. "Who the helllives _here_?"

"Didn't say the person I wanted you to meet was alive," Fin led the way through the rusted out gate; the cobblestone path was worn and overgrown with moss and ivy. The trees, mostly sycamores and willows, were ancient and untended; the wind rustled through their branches – willow wands blew across the path, obscuring their way.It was like no one ever came here – just Fin, it seemed.

A sharp wind cut through Joe's coat, slicing him to the very bone; he shivered. "This'd be a good place to shoot a monster movie," he muttered.

"Yeah," Fin agreed. The air was thick with a wet green smell – spring was coming. Somehow he could always smell it in the air when it was truly on its way – Kate's birthday was in the spring. She'd been killed eight days before herfifteenth birthday.

Finally, they arrived. It wasn't much, a small stone marker, a name, two dates, birth and death – next to it, another that was almost identical. Both were worn-looking already. "This is Kate," Fin said to Joe. "This is her brother, Andrew," he indicated the two graves; Fin knelt in front of Kate Zito's grave and closed his eyes for a long moment. The coldmoisture in the ground soaked into hisjeans, but he barely noticed."One year today,"Fin's voice was barely a whisper. Eleven faded roses sat in the dirt. He'd never seen a caretaker out here – must be why the city used this place sometimes. It was probably real cheap to get a person buried here.

Fin laid the fresh pink rose on top of the wilted ones, saying a silent prayer for her soul – a prayer that someday he'd catch the bastard who put her here. Then he looked from Kate's grave to Andrew's – later evidence had suggested that it might not have been suicide, but the powers that be were content to keep it written up that way. Less messy this way. The case was closed. Officially. Unofficially, Fin would never give up until he got to the bottom of it. In the sycamore tree a crow squawked at him – "You have a good month?" He asked it, standing, walking over to the tree.

It squawked and ruffled its wings.

"Mine was shitty, thanks. Wife left me. Yours probably don't care much, does she, you hanging out here all night –?" Each month he'd tried walking just a little closer – and each month the big black bird continued to let him approach. The thing was probably just used to people…but it was a little uncanny the way it wasn't afraid of him.

"Friend of yours?" Joe asked.

"You could say that. He's always here. Waiting. Just like me."

"Waiting? For what?"

"Don't know. I know I'm waiting for the day I can catch a break in this case." He'd found Andrew's girlfriend – his pregnant girlfriend. She swore that Andrew had never known about the baby – but that right around the time Kate got killed, her parent's house was torched. She said that Andrew was afraid of some guy called Gabriel. She was afraid of him too – she wouldn't talk to Fin any more, wouldn't come visit Andrew's grave. She'd moved on, started a whole new life, as if Andrew had never existed at all... she'd kept the baby. Fin wondered what she was going to say when the child grew up and wanted to know about his father...

"You come out here every month?" Joe asked.

"Somebody has to. Their parents died when they were kids – they only ever had each other – I never believed he killed her. I know what the evidence said – and I know what my gut told me. You don't kill your only family. He had a girlfriend – she lives somewhere down south now. Told me she felt safer that way – out of the state. She's the one told me about this Gabriel. Kid was petrified of him." Gabriel. It seemed like every turn was a dead end, and every dead end had the same name: Gabriel. He didn't know who or what this Gabriel was, just that he controlled a vast empire – and it had been built on the bad habits of the citizens of New York City. He told Joe Maxwell what he knew about Gabriel, sketchy though it was. "I don't know if I'm helping you or putting you in danger."

"I can handle it."

Fin smirked - that's whatpeoplealways said, just before they stepped into something big enough to swallow them up whole. But he kept that opinion to himself. "I usually stay all night. But I guess I shouldn't let some scrawny white guy make his way back through this neighbourhood alone." He said one last good-bye to Kate and her brother - and led the way back down the path, towards the outside world.


	3. Three

**Chapter Three:**

Midnight

_This is the sound of poisons  
the sickness no one knows_

_No one is crying for us this time  
Our shapes are blurring under miracles of snow  
Weave a circle round him three times  
You have to plan your moves at these times  
Our hearts are breaking  
One more song to go_

_These eyes are blind  
This is a pure thing  
These hands I kiss  
Tragic as anything  
These eyes are blind  
This is a pure thing  
All splash and hiss  
Beyond my measuring_

_Only the anacrusis  
the main event remains  
Shameful and naked, out there in the  
great cold outdoors  
We have to learn these things again  
Bathe in this incandescent glow  
the leap to something I don't know  
There is no doubt upon us when  
the greasy men come back again_

_These faded flowers  
Precious as memory  
A veil of cloud  
Correct as energy  
We had some good machines  
But they don't work no more  
I loved you once  
Don't love you anymore_

_Shriekback_

-

Rain fell.

_Pitter pat._

_Pitter pat._

_Pitter pat._

The hour was late – the clock in the hall way chimed. I was slow.

If it chimed midnight, than it was really almost twelve thirty.

_Where was he?_

Kate looked anxiously out at the darkness – he should have been home by now…a noise… a noise at the door.

_Pitter pat._

_Pitter pat._

_Crash! _

Men's voices – soft – then loud. Shouting – shouting – whose name? Andrew…Andrew?

Andrew!

_I waited for you – waited all night. Waited until they came. You told me to stay inside, lock the door, hide in the closet – but they found me anyway. _

_They found me because they were angry at you. What have you done this time?_

_They want to know where you are – I don't know – oh, I don't know! Oh – it hurts! The ropes cut into my wrists – the belt across my face – angry red welts raise up and I cry out – a tooth falls out – blood cascades down like a red water fall. A thick, warm red water fall…oh please stop! Just stop – I don't know anything, I don't know, I don't know! _

_But they don't believe me. _

_Has it been hours or only minutes since they got here, I don't know! I don't know anything - please, why won't they believe me? Where are you!_

_Wait – wait! – They're gone…they leave. Oh dear god, they're gone, thank you, thank you, thank you! …I try to wriggle free of my bonds – but the rope just cuts deeper. I try to stop crying – to breathe. To think. Just think. You'll be home soon, won't you? I can see the sun coming in the window – that means it has to be some time after noon – you'll be home soon, you have to be home soon! The clock chimes. Five times. Five thirty. You'll be home soon, won't you?_

_Andrew – you swore you'd take care of me. Always. You said always. After Mom and Dad died you said you'd bet there for me, take care of me…where were you today? No – no, I can't be angry at you, I just have to wait for you to get home – oh where are you?_

_Time passes – I must have blacked out – it's dark now – where are you? Andrew? Oh, god, are you all right? Those men didn't find you, did they? Who were they – oh where are you? The clock chimes – I count. Eleven times. That means it's almost eleven thirty at night. _

_The door opens. Is it you…? _

_Whose this? He's tall – thin. Well dressed. White skin. Black hair. Something about him scares me. He wants to know where you are. He wants to know where his money is. What money? I never saw no money! I don't know nothing – I try to tell him that…he believes me, he strokes my face and dries my tears. Yes, he believes me. He knows I don't know anything, anything at all... But that doesn't matter any more. Nothing matters anymore... I'll never see you again...he takes a needle - he sticks in in my arm and tells me to go to sleep... sleep...s__o sleepy now…so sleepy. Sleep…darkness…but even in the darkness, there is no rest…_

In the tree, the crow waited; it had started to rain. Lovely. Why did it always have to rain? Just once couldn't someone come back on a nice sunny day? A nice _warm_ day? Why was it always a cold dark night? Spirit creature or not, crows were not meant to fly at night, in the rain! The crow shivered, rustling its feathers, trying to keep warm. _Anytime now, sweetheart_, he thought in the direction of the grave. _Anytime now…_

_"You betrayed me!"_

_"I didn't – I swear, I didn't know they'd come there looking for you!"_

_"Liar! You – you did this to me!"_

_"No – please, Katie, you have to believe me – I never meant for this to happen!"_

_"Doesn't matter what you meant – you knew. You knew he'd come for me. You stole from them – what the hell did you expect?"_

_"I didn't take that much money – I didn't think he'd come looking for me at the house – I didn't think he'd hurt you. Please. You have to believe me."_

_"I don't have to believe anything - that isn't one of the rules.__" _

_Rage. Pain. Loss. _

_The loss of innocence. _

_It shouldn't happen this way – I should be angry for Andrew's death. _

_I am. _

_But mostlyI'm angry atAndrew for getting me killed. For being stupid. _

_Stupidity should be one of the Seven Deadly Sins. _

_Maybe that's why I'm the one going back and not him – this was his fault. I'm the innocent. He's guilty. _

_God, how much of this am I going to remember when I get back to the other side? Will I remember the cop that came to my grave every month? Will I remember that name – Gabriel. _

_Yes, that name is burned on my soul. Gabriel. Gabriel. **GABRIEL!**_

_Andrew…a scream and a whisper…Gabriel…Andrew…Andrew…you might be the reason I'm here, the reason I suffered…but he killed you. You were my brother and he killed you…you couldn't protect me. You couldn't even protect yourself…_

Now I will tell you what I've done for you  
Fifty thousand tears I've cried  
Screaming, deceiving and bleeding for you  
And you still won't hear me (going under)  
Don't want your hand this time  
I'll save myself  
Maybe I'll wake up for once  
Not tormented daily defeated by you  
Just when I thought I'd reached the bottom  
I'm...dying...again

I'm going under  
Drowning in you  
I'm falling forever  
I've got to break through

I'm...going under

Blurring and stirring the truth and the lies  
So I don't know what's real and what's not

Always confusing the thoughts in my head  
So I can't trust myself anymore  
I'm...dying...again

I'm...so go on and scream  
Scream at me  
I'm so far away  
I won't be broken again  
I've got to breathe  
I can't keep going under  
I'm...dying...again

I'm...going under  
Going under  
I'm going under

Evenescence

-

In the darkness, the earth moves…one hand reaches up…then another…mud soaked, shivering…she emerges. She's pretty – petite. Hispanic. Five feet tall, maybe – thin, maybe ninety pounds. A little underdeveloped, maybe…life musta been hard.The birdcan see the harsness ofthe life, now past,in her eyes – in the way she holds herself now as she tries to stand…falls…stays down…shudders…sobs…

Long black hair frames a heart shaped face; big black eyes peer out uncertainly from behind long bangs – she's used to hiding – the bird can feel her emotions. It's part of his job, to guide her through this uncertainty – to set her on the path to murder and mayhem. This one is going to have a lot of work to do if she's ever going to find rest. She's too angry – too confused – too hurt. There's been so much bad in her life… it's never a walk in the park – but this – this one is gonna be hell.

She looks around, brushing rain soaked hair from her eyes, trying to make sense of her surroundings. Trees. Grass. Mud. A hole. Cold rain washes the mud from cold flesh. Her cloths are in tatters – she tries to pull them around her, to cover herself.Pain – it stabs at her insidesand she doubles over, crying out.

The crow watches.

"Andrew! Where are you!" Kate screams into the night. Frantically, she searches for some clue as hands clutch at the shreds of the cloths she was buried in – her eyes rest on the hole she's just crawled from and the stone by it – senses reeling – cold. Confusion. Dead? How long – how can it be? Andrew's grave – she crawls towards it – Andrew! She sobs out his name. "You were supposed to take care of me," she weeps – memories surface, hazy at first. Men. Men in her home. The only home she's ever known….her parents, years before…going out for a drive…never coming home…the police, the social workers…Andrew says he'll take care of her…he drops out of school…he gets a job…he gets a girlfriend…she keeps talking about them moving in together, but he can't leave Kate…things begin to change...he tells her about this guy who can give him a better job…don't take it, it'll only be trouble…but who listens to a fourteen year old? She doesn't even realize that the tears she thinks she's crying aren't tears at all - it's just the rain on her face... she can no longer cry.

The men break in…they tie her up. They hit her…they ask impossible questions…Christmas. The tree…Daddy always brought home a real tree…life was happy then…before they left…where are they now? She was with them, for a short time…a moment. A moment in the darkness... "Why am I here? Mommy – Daddy? Where are you? I'm scared." she looks around, confused – a child again, seeking her parents in the dark…but this isn't her room. This isn't a dream…she's here…alone in the night. In the rain. Andrew's grave…her grave next to his…what kind of crazy mistake is this?

A black bird flaps down from a tree to land next to her. It pecks at her arm, gently.

_No more time for this, kiddo. Sun'll be up in an hour. _

"No…NO!" Buteven the memories of her parents seem to be fading – the Christmas tree has gone dim…blood covers everything, hot and sticky, warm – who would have imagined that blood would feel so warm? It still isn't enough to warm her insides…

Emptiness – so cold and empty inside! Nothing – there's nothing…_nothing..._

_There's one thing. _The crow tells her.

_One thing_.

_There_ _is_ one thing.

_Anger_.

It has a name…her rage has a name; fury has a face.

**"GABRIEL!"** Her voice shatters the stillness of the night. A single word burning on her soul and in her throat. **_"GABRIEL!"_** she screams again, falling over...

_That's right, sweetheart, Gabriel. His thugs beat you. He killed you. One of his guys killed your brother. Now, can we get out of the rain before I'm so soaked I can hardly fly?_

Kate started – she hadn't noticed the rain. "Does it matter? The wet, I mean?"

_Yeah, it matters._

"Oh. Sorry." She rose slowly – the effort of standing – of putting one foot in front of the other was almost too much. "Why does it hurt so much?"

_Inside it hurts cuz you're dead. Outside it hurts – cuz you're dead. _

"But – I don't understand."

_No one ever does. Come on, follow me,_ the crow took off from into the pre-dawngloom. She almost screamed as his vision blurred into hers. _Just take it easy – follow me – atta girl – see, your body won't be stiff for long._

Slowly at first – then faster – she followed him through a maze of back alley ways – through a part of the city she'd never been to before – she ran realizing that she wasn't getting tired – with each step she felt more – alive.

_You ain't alive. Don't forget that._

_Maybe that was a bad word, _she spoke silently_, But I feel something. Powerful. Unstoppable._

_You aren't invulnerable – close, but not quite. Don't forget that._

_What will stop me, then?_

_Someone gets me, they get you – don't sweat it, sweetheart, I'm good at playing hard to get. No one knows what the connection between us is, anyway. So keep your trap shut._

_Secrets I can keep. _Kate scaled a fire escape – up, higher and higher – until she was on top of the building, looking out over the city. "My god – it's beautiful from up here!" she laughed, giddy with the power coursing through her – she didn't even feel cold any more.

_Come on, let's get you cleaned up,_ the crow settled onto her shoulder. It stopped short of drawing blood, but could feel her flinch as it sunk it's talons into her flesh. To the girl's credit, she didn't complain. Maybe she was stronger than he'd first thought. He took off again, leading her back down to the street – a back alley door led into a church.

"It's locked," she tried the door.

_So. Turn the knob harder._

Kate did as she was bidden, shocked when the lock broke off; the door opened easily. It was dark inside – but it didn't seem to bother her like she thought it should. "Why are we here – I'm not stealing from a church."

_Course not – they keep cloths in the back – donations for the poor. Look at yourself – I think you qualify._

"Ok. Only because it's donated. Make sure no one's around – I don't want to scare anybody or anything."

With a squawk of laughter, the crow took off to the balcony. Of course no one would hear her – she didn't realize yet that she moved on silent feet.

Kate found the room with the donated cloths – there was a bathroom too. It had a small shower. Hot water felt good on her skin – the soap was scented with lavender. She even found a big terry cloth towel to wrap herself in! In the mirror, she examined her face – there was no sign of the welts left – no scars. No bruises. Not on the surface anyway – she could still feel every pain inside – ever insult. Every punch, every hit – every time the belt landed on her flesh. Murderous rage began to fill her – anger – fury – she understood why she was back…a part of her feared what she'd become, but the greater part reveled in what was to come.

Turning towards the donated clothing, Kate dug through the boxes with fury – black denim pants – a snuggly fitting black halter-top – a black 'bolero' style jacket, fringed with leather – deeper, deeper, deeper…she found a pair of good leather boots – they reminded her of the boots that bikers wore. The fit was good and the thick two-inch heels gave her a little bit of height. Strange emotions overtook her – anger – pain – revenge – a thirst for blood consumed her soul; it would not be easily slaked… Digging deeper, she found a discarded make up case – she powdered her and applied a thick line of black kohl around her eyes, painting the lids grey – black lips – black fingerless gloves, leather, completed the outfit.It was time to kill…

-

The crow led her to him – she recognized him as one of the first men to come into her house that night – one of the men who had hurt her… he was just standing there, on a street corner, selling drugs like he wasn't even afraid of getting caught. Apparently, he was handling the before-school rush; eight teen agers huddled around him looking for a fix. She watched from the shadows… He was a middle-aged guy – obviously not real sure what soap and water were for – it didn't look or smell as if he'd showered in at least a week. Didn't look like he'd washed his denim jacket or the jeans he was wearing in over a month.

_Jesus Jiminy Cricket, this Monkey reeks! _The crow said into his charge's head; he was perched on her shoulder. _I can smell him from up here._

_Yeah, _she thought back at the bird. Watching, waiting…at least the guy's customers left him and he was alone in the alley; he lit a cigarette, oblivious to her slow decent.

"Hey," Kate said softly, approaching him from the shadows. "You're Snake, right?" She remembered one of the other men calling him that. She recognized his belt – it had hit her face at least a dozen times. She'd never forget that belt…or the man wearing it.

Snake jumped, "Jezus, kid – you shouldn't sneak up on a guy like that. I'm Snake, who wants to know?"

"My name's Kate. That mean anything to you?"

"No. Should it." He leered at her young body.

"You knew my brother. Andy. Andy Zito. Think now – you should remember him," she coaxed – from the look of him, he used as well as sold.

Snake shrugged, "Sorry. But I'd like to get to know you, Kate Zito," he continued to undress her with his eyes.

"I'll bet you would – can I bum a smoke?"

"Sure," he held out the pack.

Kate took hold of his hand, flooding the man's mind with the memory of her last few moments of life – he tried to scream – tried to pull away – but she was strong. Much stronger than she'd ever been when she was alive…

A few hours later, the 'lunch crowd' found Snake hanged in a doorway, strung up by his own belt…from the looks of things, he hadn't died easily…

-

Over the next few weeks, she began to pick the rest of them off, one by one, each death more spectacular than the last…even so, Kate's need was never slaked…even after she tracked down and killed the guy who had gotten Andy in prison…

-

In that time, Cleon Manning gathered more and more evidence…and Burch met with Vincent, though the latter never revealed his face. They traded what information they had…and Vincent remained as perplexed as anyone else in New York as to who it was waging their own personal little war on Gabriel.

"I wish that it was me," he told Burch honestly.

"Would you tell me if it was?"

"Yes."

Burch snorted; they'd started meeting at one of his construction sites, in a temporary building used to store equipment and supplies – he hadn't expected Vincent to agree to the place, and was pleasantly surprised when the other had. It was heated – and dark, as Vincent preferred. Although at least Vincent had allowed him to get a little closer - standing less than five feet from the big man, he was close enough to smell the muskiness of scented soap and well oiled leather. "You know – I think you really would tell me," Elliot mused softly...Leave it to Cathy to go for someone who liked patchouli, sandalwood and leather…

"And you would tell me, if this was your doing?"

"Sure I would – but I've never killed anyone. Not like this.Some people believe that the things I've done have cost lives." Why did that bother him, now, after all these years?

"And other things you have done have saved lives, Elliot."

"I just hope we can save her."

"We will. We have to."

"There's something you're not telling me, isn't there?" Elliot had sensed it at their last meeting. They had met six times in the last two weeks – Elliot wondered if it was as much because they sought out one another's understanding – the understanding of someone who _could _understand – as it was to exchange information. In that very short time, Elliot, who had alwaysconsideredacquaintences 'inconvenient necessities', had begun to think of Vincent as a friend rather than an uneasy ally or a rival. The truth (and Elliot knew it) was that he could never have contended with this man for Catherine's heart. There was something about Vincent that even he found compelling. It was impossible not to trust him – not to like him.

"Elliot – she is pregnant."

The words hit Elliot hard – and yet, they came as no surprise. "Yours?" It wasn't really a question.

"There has been no other man in her life."

"My God," All Elliot sank to sit on one of the big wooden boxes that littered their 'meeting room.' Cathy – out there, afraid – pregnant. And Vincent – the pain that he must be feeling, the frustration. Elliot felt it too – he had felt it the moment he found out she was missing – fear, pain, anger. But what must it be like for Vincent, knowing that she carried his child and he couldn't get to her? He felt Vincent move nearer, sit down almost next to him,and for a long while they sat in sympathetic silence, each aware of the other's feelings – yet comfortably still, knowing, understanding, that there was no solace to be had in words or pity. Yet, in silence, Elliot felt – hope. At last, he found his voice. "The police have turned the case over to the cold squad."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that it's practically closed. Her case will go into a filing cabinet somewhere in the basement and if something turns up that might be a clue, someone might open it, look at it, file the clue and then close the drawer on it again. As far as the police are concerned it's over."

"It doesn't matter. They wouldn't have found her anyway."

"No," Elliot agreed. "Look – Vincent – I feel like I know you. We've been meeting in the dark for two weeks – sharing something so painful it feels like we've borne our souls to one another. Why won't you show me your face?"

"Because you would not like what you see."

"Cathy loves you. What else could matter?" He had to see the face of the man whose confidence he'd kept – a man who would keep his own confidences, he was sure.

"It could matter. To you. To others like you."

"Like me?"

"Men who live in your world – in your city."

Elliot frowned – he'd always had a sense that there was something extraordinary about Cathy's mystery man. There would have to be – no ordinary man could have so completely captured her heart. "Will you at least tell me how you met her?"

"We met once upon a time…"

Elliot could hear the smile in Vincent's voice as he began telling the story of a woman who had been dragged into a van and brutally attacked. He knew the tale – at least a part of it. "You found her?"

"In the park, where they left her for dead. I took her in – helped her to heal. My father is a doctor – he bound her wounds – I read to her and tried to nurture her soul, even as her body began to heal itself. I didn't realize until she was healed that all the while I'd been nurturing her, she had been nurturing me. All my life, I'd never thought to hope – to dream – of someone to love. Of someone to love me – but then – there she was. She opened my heart and gave me the courage to love her in a way that I had never loved before."

"You'd never loved anyone before?"

"As a boy, I had an infatuation with a girl. Because of the pain I felt when I hurt this girl I believed thatI loved, I locked my heart away, so that it would never be hurt again. So that I would never again hurt another with my love. I am different from other men – my place is not in your world – I do not walk in the sunlight." He thought for a moment of his brother, the one person brave enough to have dreamed dreams that included him – of the rift – and of the healing. "Catherine healed my soul of a great hurt. She opened my eyes – she saved my life. And even as I had been a boy when I loved Lisa, it was a very boyish sort of love, the infatuation that all men feel when they are young. What I have with is with Catherine is a very different sort of love – it is deeper than any ocean," Vincent became suddenly, acutely, aware of the pain in the other's heart. "I am sorry, Elliot – it must hurt you to hear this – you care so deeply for her also."

"I do. And I'd be a liar if I said it didn't hurt a little – but I'm glad she has someone like you – someone to love her the way that you do. So – wholeheartedly." Elliot could hear it in Vincent's voice – he loved without reservation. Without any care but for the one he loved – he wasn't bogged down with worry over this or that project, money, the bank, the unions, power, greed – over the petty, unimportant things that could eat a man's life up until one day he realized he'd lost out on the most important years of his life… Elliot swallowed the lump in his throat. "She is as lucky to have you as you are to have her."

"She is fortunate to have you also, Elliot. As a friend. You've changed a great deal since she first met you – become the man I think she must have known you were all along, deep inside."

"Were – were you a part of her life when Cathy and I dated?" He was almost afraid to ask – more fearful yet of the answer.

"Yes."

"And you – stood back and let her go?"

"If you love someone, you must let them go – if their love is true, they will return. If not, it was never meant to be."

Elliot remembered her almost marrying him – was that for Vincent? He'd held so much over her head – hurt her so deeply… Burch Towers – Burch's folly was more like it. "I'm sorry for any pain I caused you, Vincent. I have been, in my zeal and pride and my greed, very foolish at times. Dangerously, painfully foolish. I hope you can forgive that part of me."

"She forgave you a long time ago – she believed in you and in your power to change, to become the man she always knew you really are, inside. I could never bear a grudge against any man for whom she cares – any man who cares for her as deeply as you do." Could it be, Vincent wondered – was he really feeling what Elliot was feeling - did he really, truly sense the other's pain...his hope?And ifhe could feel what Elliot was feeling – that perhaps his sense of Catherine would return also..."Even then, I too sensed that there was something deeply noble about you - perhaps you had only to discover it for yourself," Vincent told him.

"Thank you. For sharing her with me. For trusting me. I don't know if I could sit next to the man who tried to take her away from me, who had hurt her as badly as I know I must have - who had hurt you as much as I know I must have hurt you, Vincent. I don't know if I'd be brave enough to trust a guy like me."

Vincent chuckled softly, despite himself, "You short change yourself, Elliot. You are not the man you once were – your life has been touched. And changed."

"Catherine."

"Catherine," Vincent agreed - she had changed them both. "I must go. I will come back the night after tomorrow."

"Vincent – wait – where do you go? What do you go when you leave here?"

"I search. I walk the streets looking – hoping. Praying."

"I've never had that much faith in anything – or anyone. But – I want you to know that I'm praying too. Praying that you find her." He felt a powerful, comforting hand on his shoulder – it was huge and strong. Elliot got the sense that if he wanted to, Vincent could easily crush his collarbone without exerting any real effort – and yet his touch was gentle, an offer of friendship – of trust. Trust in the man who had almost destroyed Vincent's world… Elliot touched the hand, squeezed his own hand around it …fur?

"Thank you," Vincent said softly; he withdrew into the shadows.

"Vincent?" Elliot asked…but he was already gone. Fur?


	4. Four

**Chapter Four: **

"Narcissa?" Vincent was startled to find the old woman waiting in his chamber when he returned. "What are you doing here?" he asked gently; despite her great age and declining health, Narcissa never ventured into the main hub of the Tunnels.

"Vincent." She said, as if that one word answered everything. "Sit."

He sat on the floor in front of her, like child, waiting. She was silent a long while, as if gathering her thoughts. Finally, she broke her silence. "For seven nights in a row, I have dreamed. I dream of children lost in the darkness. I dream of you. I dream of Catherine."

Vincent held his breath – if she told him that Catherine was dead – _Dear, God, no, please_, he prayed silently. Narcissa was the one person he would believe.

"I dream of death."

Vincent felt the world crumble around him, "No, please – tell me that you could be wrong – don't take away my hope, Narcissa." Cold… the world seemed suddenly so cold …empty… alone…how would he go on if she died?

"I dream of death," Narcissa repeated. "But not as you fear it. Oh, it is a possibility," the old seer warned. "Nothing is written in stone. Nothing."

"But then what am I to do?" Vincent wanted to know. "What do your dreams tell you?"

"A great many things. You sat and conversed with a king last night. You come back to yourself with this man."

"Elliot Burch," Vincent confided. Father would be very unhappy if he knew. Only Devin knew…and he would never tell a soul. "He is a powerful man in her world – and he loves her. He would do anything to help her. As would I." He waited. Narcissa said nothing, but seemed to be waiting. "I was able to feel something tonight," Vincent told her. "I felt his pain – his regret."

"You have always been – what do they say – empathic? Yes, empathic."

"But tonight I felt something the way I used to, with Catherine. It could be that the bond is returning – that was why I was able to feel him –?"

"The bond has never left you," Narcissa admonished Vincent, and not so gently. Great age had worn away at her patience for blind children. "It has changed – but it is still there. There are none so blind as those who will not see."

"What do you see, Narcissa?"

"A bond. A lifeline – you too are having dreams. Vivid dreams."

"I see death – fire – I feel her pain, but I cannot find her. I feel her fear, but I cannot console her. I see the child – a boy. A strong healthy boy – but I cannot reach him. There is always something blocking me. The world crumbles down around me – like a cave in, but – more. Then I see a bird – a big black bird. It flies in at the last – but I don't know what it wants."

"A crow," Narcissa told him. "It has haunted my dreams for two weeks – I know what it means, but not what it wants. It hunts the same thing you do."

"Crows are carrion birds. They do not hunt."

"Crows bring death."

"Catherine?" He was afraid to know – was he dreaming an omen of her death?

"Do not discount the soul of a child, Vincent."

"My child?" He asked – she seemed to be slipping into some sort of trance – he'd seen it before, a waking dream-state.

"Though the body is broken, the soul lives on," Narcissa began. "The soul is shattered, yet held together by its own pain – and, oh Vincent, what a strong soul it is! Stronger and darker than any other like it! Few come back so enraged – so strong – dangerous. Oh, she will kill many – and she will not rest, Vincent. She will not rest because there is too much for her to do – too many wrong things…too many wrong things… too many others could end up like her and her soul will not allow that – it cannot. She hangs in the balance – could go either way, towards the darkness or the light. You must have faith in what you believe, Vincent!" she fell into him.

Gingerly, Vincent steadied her – she seemed at times powerful beyond imagining and at others little more than a frail old woman.

"The test comes when you cannot see," Narcissa told him softly. "And you must have faith. Remember, the eyes are the mirrors of the soul. Do not be fooled by a child's body, Vincent. And do not stand between Death and those it would claim as its own. A soul so angry sometimes forgets the truth of why it is here. It can loose its path. That is a lesson for you, also, Vincent – do not loose your path. Too many people need you."

"Narcissa – please, you are making no sense."

"In time. In time, Vincent – all in time." She rose to leave.

"Wait, please," he stood with her. "You said you dreamed of Catherine – is she alive – is she all right?"

"Oh Vincent," the old woman reached up to touch his cheek. "You already know the answer to that. You better than anyone knows that you must not give up hope – I only wonder if you will remember than when you most need to…? No, no, I can find my own way back. I found my way here, didn't I?" She smiled, waving off his attempt to aid her. "You must rest. Rest and dream."

Vincent watched her go – even for Narcissa, she wasn't making much sense today…but he knew better than to pass her strange messages off as old age. If nothing else, he could not deny the weariness he felt…stripping only down to his under cloths (rather than changing to bed cloths), Vincent climbed into his bed, pulling the covers up around him. Sleep. It was filled with terrible dreams lately…blood, fire, Catherine falling through the darkness, consumed by terrible, terrible pain – her fear, his terror and the madness of knowing she was within arm's reach, but he could not touch her… _I will find you_, he vowed to the darkness. _I will find you._

-

"How's my son this morning?" Gabriel crooned at the woman's belly – he caressed it fondly. It wasn't her he touched – it was the growing child inside. To him, the woman was nothing more than a vessel carrying an extraordinary child. He'd seen the father – once when he'd gotten close to a couple of his men – seen the extraordinary creature who had come for this plain, almost mousey little woman. It gave new meaning to the story of the mouse and the lion…so he kept her alive because she would bear him a most extraordinary child – an heir to his legacy. Though the ultra sound had revealed an ordinary looking baby, Gabriel had no doubts that his son would be a most extraordinary creature indeed…

"He's not yours." Catherine Chandler told him defiantly. She was strapped down now – after the last time the doctors had tried to examine her and she'd tried to escape. She'd almost succeeded – but despite being only six months pregnant, she looked and felt closer to nine.

"Of course he's mine, Cathy," Gabriel looked up as if noticing her for the first time since he'd come into the room. "My doctors tell me that he's moved into position – any day now I'm going to be able to hold him in my arms."

"Bastard!"

He chuckled, "Funny – a lot of people call me that, but my parents were married." He stroked her hair, giving her a sad, almost pitying look. "Don't worry – your suffering will be over soon. Just as soon as my son is born. Now be a good girl and eat your breakfast, hmm?"

"Go to hell."

_Ride on through the night, ride on  
Ride on through the night, ride on_

_There are visions, there are memories  
There are echoes of thundering hooves  
There are fires, there is laughter  
There's the sound of a thousand doves_

_In the velvet of the darkness  
By the silhouette of silent trees  
They are watching, they are waiting  
They are witnessing life's mysteries_

_Cascading stars on the slumbering hills  
They are dancing as far as the sea  
Riding o'er the land, you can feel its gentle hand  
Leading on to its destiny_

_Take me with you on this journey  
Where the boundaries of time are now tossed  
In cathedrals of the forest  
In the words of the tongues now lost_

_Find the answers, ask the questions  
Find the roots of an ancient tree  
Take me dancing, take me singing  
I'll ride on till the moon meets the sea_

_Loreena McKennitt_

Laura woke with a start – Jerry was just getting out of the shower. "Sorry," He smiled, then switched to sign. :Didn't mean to startle you.:

:It wasn't you. I had another nightmare.: She closed her eyes for a moment. :Jerry, we need to talk.:

Jerry Callahan braced himself. Over the last couple of months, Laura had become more and more withdrawn. After last semester, she dropped out of school without a word of explanation – just that she had 'things to do'. At the time, he'd thought it was related to their up coming wedding and happily agreed that taking a couple of semesters off wouldn't hurt anything. She could always go back in the fall.

Then he started noticing other things; he'd stop by her place in the middle of the day to surprise her, only to find her not here. Where she used to spend three and four nights a week with him, now he was lucky to see her once a week, let alone have her stay over. While he'd tried to talk to her about it, Jerry knew better than to pressure her – he didn't know the details of her past, but he knew enough to know she'd come from a bad place – Laura's heart had been in a million pieces when he met her. His greatest fear was driving her away by being too demanding. She kept telling him that everything was fine - she was just 'busy' - but she'd never tell him with what, and he was afraid to ask.

It hurt him to the core that she'd stopped planning the wedding. It hurt him even more that she hadn't told him about it – he found out from his mother (who never had quite liked Laura.) Mom started poking around after Laura stood her up for a dress-shopping date. Jerry had tried to pass it off as nothing, Laura hadn't been overly excited about shopping with his mother and two sisters (their feeling of dislike seemed mutual.) Then Mom found out about that Laura had blown off an appointment at the hall and called the baker, only to find that Laura had never gotten back to them about the cake…she hadn't gotten back to the florist, either. All of this on top of Laura's (mostly polite) refusal to convert to Catholicism (for his part, Jerry didn't care. They were sinning in the eyes of the Church anyway, by living together before marriage. Which was probably part of the root of Mom's dislike…)

Mom was furious – it was a typical mother's reaction to her son being hurt; Jerry told her not to be – whatever was wrong, he'd figure it out and fix it. Somehow. Except that he didn't know how...didn't know what to say to make Laura open up that last part of her heart to him...what to do to make her trust him enough to tell him about whatever it was that was bothering her (becuase he was sure there was something.) So, he'd waited…and here it was… He sat down on the edge of the bed. :I'm listening.:

Laura took a deep breath – and than another one. Adjusting to life Above had been so much harder than she'd imagined. She'd been so scared – so angry at so many things. Then there was Jerry – who after she allowed herself to trust him, had changed her world. (When he told her he could hear she had been so angry she'd almost run back to the Tunnels, convinced that she couldn't trust anyone on the surface… not that she blamed him now for lying to her, he'd been undercover and she'd been part of a deaf street gang – the only way for him to get in was to pretend to be deaf too…) If not for Catherine – for Vincent… they had given her the courage to take a chance on him. They'd both told her that in order to find happiness you have to be willing to risk getting hurt – and looking at him now, she knew she'd never be alone again. Laura smiled, overwhelmed by the intensity of her feelings for this man. He was her best friend – her lover. Her life.

But even that didn't stop the hurting in her heart. There were so many things she had wanted to tell Jerry for so long. She had been planning to bring him down Below at Winterfest – she wanted him to see her world, to truly understand where she'd come from – and to meet the people who had helped her over come a difficult childhood – the people who had faith in her, even when she'd lost it in herself. But then, in an instant, the world crumbled. Catherine vanished without a trace – everything Below changed. Everything Above changed to, at least for the Helper-network. At first, there was hope – then word spread that Vincent could no longer feel Catherine. And the baby – she was pretty sure that Father hadn't meant for everyone to know – but in a community like theirs it was hard to keep secrets. Harder than hard, Mouse might say.

She'd spent more and more time Below, trying to help – so many Helpers had willingly turned their lives upside down to join the search, each looking in their own way for some clue. Some hope. And yet, so much time had passed… everyone was beginning to loose hope – only Vincent and a handful of others remained optimistic. Mouse, Jamie – Devin. Laura hated to admit it, but she was one of the one's who was beginning to fear that they would never find Catherine alive…

"I want to postpone the wedding," Laura said out loud – it was hard, but she'd been learning. It was the only way Above, where so few people knew how to sign.

:Postpone – or call off: Jerry signed back, afraid of the answer.

"Postpone!" she cried aloud. :I love you. I want to marry you. But I can't marry you right no.:

:Can you tell me why:

:I hurt: she touched her heart. :It's not you. I never told you how much of a friend Catherine Chandler was to me. Is to me. I never told you a lot of things: she admitted.

"I never realized," Jerry put his arms around Laura – the pain in her eyes, in that moment – it spoke volumes – it explained so much of the past few months. He remembered Cathy Chandler – she'd been involved when he was working to break up the gang – when he'd met Laura. He'd thought there was something between them – but he hadn't seen Chandler since then…and for her part, Laura was such a private person. She never spoke of – of much of anything beyond the day to day stuff, even with him. :How well do you know her:

:I wanted to ask her to stand up with me, as my maid of honour. Then Vincent got sick and I didn't want to ask her because she was so worried about him. Everyone was.:

:Who is Vincent:

:There's so much I never told you – I'm sorry. I kept hoping she'd turn back up – that someone would find her – and I could tell you everything. I know I have to tell you everything – but not right now. There's too much hurt right now.:

:What do you mean, tell me everything:

:Where I come from. The people I grew up with. I'll tell you someday. Someday soon, I promise – I was going to tell you before – but after Catherine disappeared so much changed for so many. Now the police have called of the investigation. I can't get married right now.: "Please don't be mad at me."

He wrapped his arms around her, "Never," he whispered, even though she couldn't hear him. Jerry pulled her away from him so she could see his lips, "I love you, Laura. I will always love you. As long as you tell me that you're not leaving me, I'll wait for as long as I have to, to call you my wife."

-

Exhausted to the core, Joe got to his office thirty minutes late. He'd met with Burch again this morning – and he couldn't shake the feeling that Burch was hiding something important… "Joe – I was starting to worry," Jimmy Moreno stuck his head out of his office door.

It was all Joe could do to maintain a calm, friendly façade. "Sorry – I had some personal business."

Moreno smiled a smarmy smile, "No problem. I know – it's been stressful for you since Cathy vanished. Can you come in here a minute?"

Joe continued to force a good-natured expression – could it really be true? Moreno – and the mob? The last few weeks he'd spent going over every shred of evidence that Burch had given him – and then there was what Tutuola had said. It was starting to make sense. And that scared him. "Yeah?" he closed the door behind him when he went into his boss's office.

"I know – you've been under some strain. Knowing that they closed the case on Cathy's disappearance has to – affect that. You've got some vacation time – why don't you take it?"

"If you're saying I'm not doing a good job – just come out and say it," Joe said angrily. He was so sick and tired of everyone walking around on eggshells around him lately, but yesterday, when the news filtered down that the police were turning Cathy's file over to the Cold File – everywhere he looked he saw pity and hopelessness. Half the office had been unable to look him in the eye – the other had told him not to give up, even though it was clear that they had.

"Look, Joe, you've been distracted. I can hardly blame you – just – take some time. Take a trip somewhere – get away from the city for a while."

"Away from the city – with Cathy still missing?"

"There's nothing you can do for her. Nothing any of us can do…"

Joe frowned; it was like Moreno was trying to say something without saying it. Guilty conscience? Or was this sudden desire to send him away on a trip somehow connected to the fact that he'd been digging around where he shouldn't be…? "Maybe you're right – maybe I'll take a coupla days and go fishing or something."

"Why don't you make it a week or two. You've got the time – we can hold down the fort for a while without you. You can borrow my cabin if you'd like."

"No – thanks. I got a place I like to go," Joe lied. Well, it was true, he had a place he liked to go, a campground in the mountains where the fishing was amazing. But he wasn't headed there now.

-

Odafin Tutuola opened the door with a less than cheerful: "What?" He regarded the man on his doorstep for several long moments before stepping aside to let him in. "Maxwell, you look like I feel. What the hell you doin' here – it's – shit. Ten a.m. Guess it ain't really that early. Beer?"

"No – thanks." "Just as well – I think I drank it all last night."

"That wasn't all, I see," Joe stepped into the man's apartment, noticing the two empty fifths of tequila.

Fin shrugged. He walked to the kitchen to see if there was anything remotely resembling food to be had…there wasn't.

"Why don't you get a shower and let me take you out to breakfast."

"What's the special occasion?"

"I've just been given an unsolicited two week vacation by my boss."

"Moreno."

"That'd be the one."

"So you believe it now?"

"I don't know what to believe. That's where you come in."

"Swell. Have a seat – I won't be long."

Joe looked around the apartment while he waited – it was modestly comfortable – it didn't look as if the wife had completely cleaned Fin out, just took herself and their child. Joe found a picture of the boy on a bookshelf – he didn't look more than about three years old – and the spitting image of his father.

"Damn – I miss him."

Joe started, "I didn't hear you come out. Sorry, didn't mean to be nosing around."

"Ain't nothin' t'see anyway. So – I hope you're treating cuz I don't got much right now. She served me with divorce papers this morning."

"Sorry."

Fin shrugged, "I knew it was coming. Spent too long married to the job – the wife finally got jealous – said she didn't want to be my mistress any more."

"Maybe that's why I can't keep a girlfriend," Joe mused. "Anyway – yeah, breakfast is my treat, as long as you don't expect anything fancy."

"Hell, Councilor, I don't think they'd let me into any black-tie required restaurant anyway." On his way out the door, Fin grabbed his coat and hat – both black leather.

-

"You sure this is legal?" Fin queried – after breakfast, Joe took him to an uptown apartment – Chandler's apartment.

Joe shrugged, "She gave me a key once. It's not really a crime scene. So I guess it's at least mostly legal."

Fin laughed, "For a lawyer, you're all right, Maxwell."

Both were caught off guard by the presence of the red-headed woman sitting in the middle of Cathy Chandler's living room, cross legged on the floor, looking through one of Cathy's photo albums...

"Bennett? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing. I called your office this morning – they said you'd gone fishing."

"Yeah – well, I didn't tell them what I was fishing for. Bennett, this is Odafin Tutuola. Fin, Diana Bennett."

"Mr. Tutuola," she didn't stand, but she did extend her hand.

Fin couldn't help but smile at the woman; she had the attitude of a person who owned every situation she found herself in. Even here, where she clearly wasn't expected and probably didn't quite belong. "Yeah, I heard o' you. It's Detective Tutuola – but you can call me Fin."

"Fin," Diana agreed, sizing him up – then down and back up again. She turned her gaze towards Joe Maxwell – a man who looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "So what are you fishing for?"

"First tell me what are you doing here. I thought you were working a case?"

"I was. We found the kid."

"Alive?" Joe asked hopefully.

She shook her head. "He'd been dead almost two weeks – perp musta killed him right after he took him. We got the guy though. I guess that's something."

"Yeah." Joe agreed, wondering if when they found Cathy the best they'd be able to say was that they had nailed the guy who'd killed her.

"So," Diana pulled herself up from the floor, "I should assume it's been _you_ taking care of her plants?"

"Huh?"

"Chandler's been missing for almost six months – there's a rose bush by the patio door and a couple of evergreens out on the patio. The rain might have been enough for the plants outside, but someone had to water this guy," she led them over to the rose bush. "Do you know who gave it to her?"

"Um – no – and as far as I know, no one's been here since she disappeared. Are you telling me someone's been coming in regularly to take care of the plants – and no one's noticed them?"

"Apparently," Diana gave him a look.

"That's one helluva rose bush," Fin observed. "I didn't know they came like that."

"They don't. Someone very skilled had to graft a red and white rose bush together for her."

"Maybe she did it herself?" Fin conjectured.

Diana shook her head, "I don't think so. Red roses are for love – white can mean different things, but in this context, I'd say the intention was forever. Love, forever. That would suggest that this was a gift. What do we know about her boyfriend?"

"Nothing," Joe said, just a little too quickly. Could he trust her? How far did this Gabriel's reach really extend? "So – how long have you been here?"

"Hour or so. Why?."

"How'd you get in?'

Diana gave him a deeply penetrating look. "If you don't want me here, I'll go. I've got a stack of other cases waiting for me. I only put you to the top of the list because – I guess you impressed me – you really believe this woman is still alive. If something's changed –?" She cast Detective Fin Tutuola a questioning glance. He might have heard of her, but she had no idea who he was – the case was supposed to be closed – had Maxwell convinced this guy to keep it open, perhaps unofficially? "If you've got a new lead, I'll butt out."

"No, there ain't no new leads," Fin said before Joe could open his mouth and screw it up with Bennett – she had a reputation for not putting up with a whole lot, especially when she was working. "I'm just keeping Joe here company on his fishing trip."

"I see."

"So – you have any idea how someone's getting in water the plants?" Fin asked.

"Front door, I'd imagine," Diana shrugged. "If he's her boyfriend, he probably has a key." She regarded the detective closely; Fin was good looking in a bad-boy sort of way – defiantly not the sort you'd take home to mother. More than a tough exterior, Fin carried himself with a quiet confidence – not arrogance, he knew what he could do and when he was out of his depth. And he was clearly deferring to her in this, and making sure that Joe didn't say anything stupid. What stupid things could Maxwell say right now…? Diana realized that her gift of unraveling everything was a hindrance at times. Unless whatever was up with Maxwell was someone connected to Chandler's disappearance…? "You know I work alone, right?" She asked the big cop; his eyes held the wisdom and quiet cynicism that comes from living too long with your heart wide open in a place like New York. It was the same look that greeted her in the bathroom mirror every morning.

"Last thing I want to do is step on a lady's toes. I was just thinking out loud," Fin told her.

"I suppose since you're here," she continued to gaze at him, "You could make yourselves useful and talk to the neighbours, see if they know anything about her boyfriend."

Fin laughed, "You're kidding, right? Do I look like the kinda guy a bunch of Manhattan snobs would talk to?"

"Well I can't work with you two hovering around. So – go fishing somewhere else. I'll be done here in a couple of hours."

"Hours?" Joe asked.

"Hours." She confirmed. "Or I could go work another case."

"We're going. Nice to meet you," Fin dragged Joe out by the arm, giving Diana Bennett a wave with his other hand.

"What was that all about?" Joe demanded, once they'd reached the hallway.

"Diana Bennett is the single best hope you got, Councilor. You gotta know that or you wouldn't have gone to her."

"I know – but what if she's in on it?"

Fin gave the guy a look. "I don't think so. I never met her – but the lady has a reputation. She's on the up and up. Come on. You said you've been getting information from this Elliot Burch guy – let's go see him."

"I just saw him this morning."

"Yeah, I know. But I didn't."

-

"I'm sorry, Mr. Burch can't be disturbed right now."

"He'll want to see me," Joe told the secretary; she wasn't what he'd expected. Instead of some little hottie, this woman looked old enough to be Burch's mother. "We had an early morning meeting – I need to confirm some details with him. Tell him it's Joe Maxwell."

The woman gave him an appraising look. "Just a moment," she went into the office – and came out several moments later. "All right. He'll see you."

Burch's office was expansive – everything that Joe might have thought it would be. The man behind the desk, however, looked deflated.

"Mr. Maxwell – and – ?" Burch hardly looked up at them. Seeing Joe was enough of a surprise – but the big guy – that was unexpected.

"Odafin Tutuola," Fin informed the guy curtly.

"Traveling with hired muscle these days, Mr. Maxwell?"

"Something like that. What's going on?" He could tell that something was up – Elliot looked like shit. Must be going around…

"Cleon Manning – my private investigator – was murdered last night. He called me, said he had something conclusive and he'd see me in the morning. He never came in. After seeing you, I went to his office – he'd been shot. Twice in the back of the head."

"Execution," Fin opined.

"Looks that way," Elliot confirmed. He sucked down the last of the scotch in the bottom of his glass. "Can I offer either of you a drink?"

For a second, Joe was sure Fin would take Burch up on the offer, the way he'd been pounding back the booze lately – but the man just shook his head. "No thanks."

"Do you have any idea what it was he'd found?" Joe asked.

"No. I wish I did."

"Burch – do you know anything about the guy Cathy's been seeing? I used to think it was you –?"

Elliot laughed, a cold, bitter laugh. "No, I couldn't compete with him."

"So you know the guy?" Fin queried.

"Not exactly. We've spoken a few times, that's it."

"Where can we find him," Joe asked.

Elliot shrugged, "He contacts me. I don't know where he lives."

Fin and Joe exchanged frowns. "He contacts you?" Joe said aloud. "What does that mean?"

"Exactly what I said. He's the one that told me about Moreno being crooked, the one who turned me onto Gabriel. I used to think that maybe he was an undercover cop or something, deep inside Gabriel's operation. But not any more." Fur. His hand hadn't been hairy, it had been furry. Trust. Comfort. Fur…

"Why not?" Fin asked.

"Just – I'm pretty sure he's not, that's all."

"Well you tell him I need to talk to him. About Cathy," Joe said, perhaps a little more harshly than he'd meant to. This was getting ridiculous – if there were people out there with information on Cathy's disappearance, why the hell hadn't they come forward before now? She'd said he had a heart like her mystery man's – but if it was him seeing her, he'd never sit by silently in the shadows while other people went looking for her! "Come on, Fin – now _I_ need a drink."

"I've got asix hundreddollerbottle scotch," Elliot offered. "You won't find that at the bar around the corner – even around the corner from here."

Joe felt his knees go wobbly - _six hundred dollars?_ "People pay that kind of money for scotch?"

"Maybe not people – maybe just me." Burch stood up on unsteady legs and made his way to the bar. "Mr. Tutuola?"

"Why not – I've had some good scotch before, but nothing quite that expensive."

"Well, then, gentlemen, you are both in for a treat. I've been saving this one for a special occasion – single malt, imported directly from – hell, some out of the way Scottish village, anyway," Elliot laughed; it was a hollow sound. He poured them each a generous glass, over very little ice. "Cheers gentlemen."

"Bottoms up," Joe clinked his glass with Burch's – there was something never thought he would have seen:him and Elliot Burch having a drink together. "He's to good fishing."

"I'll drink to that," Fin agreed.

-

Diana walked slowly around Catherine Chandler's apartment, trying to get a feel for the woman. The apartment was very soft, very feminine. The cloths in her closet were mostly sensible – soft fabrics in soft hues made up a wardrobe comprised mostly of work cloths. In a garment bag, there were a handful of dresses, the cost of which even Diana didn't want to speculate. She knew from Chandler's file that the woman was rich. "So what was someone like you doing working at the D.A.'s office to begin with?" Diana asked the bedroom, softly. She knew the answer on paper – after a brutal attack, Chandler had disappeared for almost three weeks. When she resurfaced, she was a different person. "Is that what you've done now, run off into some cocoon to emerge as a butterfly no one recognizes?" Diana looked around and around, as if waiting for the walls to answer. "If you do, I can name about a dozen people who are going to be pissed, Catherine." Diana knew that Chandler's father had hired a private investigator when she'd gone missing before – he'd turned up squat. "But that was only a few weeks – this has been six months. That's an awfully long time not to contact someone…" she wandered into the living room.

Diana had looked through the photo albums – most of them were old, old photos, from Catherine's youth – and one that was probably from before she'd even been born, an old family memento. "There are holes in your life," Diana opinned. "Gaping holes – there's not a single picture of this boyfriend – why is that?" Diana turned on the radio – classical music. She thumbed through Catherine's collection of albums. Greig. Vivaldi. Mozart. Schubert. She owned only a handful of old movies on vhs. It looked as if the most recently watched was _The Quiet Man_ with John Wayne. "Romantic – poetry," she scanned the bookshelves. "Rilke, Tennyson, Shakespeare, Shelly, Teasdale – H.G. Wells, Tolstoy, Dickens, Kipling – classics," she ran her fingers along the antiquated copies – some of them were a hundred years old. Randomly, Diana pulled a book from the shelf. In a neat strong male hand she read the words:

_Catherine, _

_You are always in my heart – your courage has changed my life_

_Vincent_

"Vincent. Is that your name, then," Diana looked at the rose bush again. Not only had it been watered regularly, it had been tended; there were no dead leaves on the bush or in the pot, no wilted flowers. "So – have you been taking care of the plant you gave her? Why? Because you know she'll be back? Because you hope she will? She's not with you, is she? If she were, you'd just take this to her – so you know she's missing – but why haven't you come forward to join the search? And why hasn't she said more about you to her friends?" Well, that last one wasn't fair – she'd been seeing Mark for almost a month before mentioning him to her mother. Still – a man like this, one who would go through so much trouble – why would any woman keep him a secret for any length of time? "What secrets do you two share?" Diana wondered aloud…

-

Diana only realized how late the hour had grown when she looked up and realized the sun was setting – and she still had more questions than answers. Taking one last look around, Diana left. Despite the questions, it was time to start reconstructing the last few weeks of Catherine Chandler's life, before hadshe vanished.


	5. Five

**Chapter Five:**

Vincent stopped short at the balcony door – someone had been here. Recently – the scent was strong and fresh – clean. Feminine. Foreign. Fury caused a snarl to form on his lips – who was she – how _dare_ this woman invade Catherine's home! He entered the apartment, nerves on edge – the woman's scent was all over the place! "What were you doing here?" He demanded, as if her scent could answer. She'd been in Catherine's bedroom – in her closet – she'd lain on the bed – sat at the dining room table – her scent was even on Catherine's books…it permeated the apartment – the one place where he could still, almost, feel her…anger burned deep inside.

Through his anger, and the strong female scent, Vincent also found two more smells. Male. One was wearing too much aftershave – leather – metal. A gun – he'd carried a gun. The other wasn't as strong – but he was desperately anxious. They both carried around a great deal of pain. Vincent began to get a sense of these two men – it was as if his senses would tell him everything but what he most wanted to know! "Why can I feel these men, but not you?" He asked desperately, looking around the room as if he might somehow makeCatherine appear by willing it so...

Vincent staggered, ready to collapse – and realized that he could feel something of her…pain…terrible pain! Anguish held him paralyzed for a long moment – then he realized that someone was in the hallway – coming – here... quickly, he went out the way he'd come in.

-

Fin picked the lock – so far, no one had seen him come in. Thank goodness, for back alley entranceways…when he got into Chandler's apartment, the first thing he noticed was the open balcony door... "Anybody in here?" He asked, drawing his gun. "I'm a cop," He warned the empty apartment. The lights weren't on – so maybe whoever had been here didn't want to be seen…but how the hell had they gotten off the balcony…?

-

Anger, pain, fear – a torrent of emotions made Vincent run to the one person he thought might understand – it was folly – later he might say that he wasn't thinking – but in the heat of anguish and rage, he could only think of one person to turn to – one person who might know who these people were, these people who had invaded his sanctuary and taken Catherine's smell away from him…and without realizing it, he already knew where he would find Elliot Burch.

-

Elliot sat in the dark,gazing out the windowwithoutactually seeing anything beyond his own blood-shoteyes– he should go home. Hell, there were some who would argue that this was home and his apartment was just the place he kept his cloths. A soft footfall alerted him to the presence of someone in the room.

"Please don't turn around."

"Vincent? How did you get in here?" Elliot had always believed in tight security – but after this morning, after Cleon – no one should have been able to get up to his office without his consent.

"Someone has been to her apartment."

"I know," Elliot said. Jealousy – anger – what were the emotions making the other man's voice so ragged tonight? "Joe Maxwell hired someone to investigate. She's the best."

"Her presence was all over Catherine's apartment."

Pain – Elliot realized it was pain. Why was Vincent so pained – and how had he even known? Her presence? What did _that_ mean? "Joe Maxwell wants to meet you," Elliot went on, continuing to stare out his window, wishing desperately that he could catch just some small glimpse of the other's reflection in it.

"No. I've risked too much already, coming to you. Coming here, now."

Fur, he thought again. "Can I get you a drink – we cracked open a bottle of scotch earlier – me and Joe and a friend of his. Joe's an ok sort of guy, once you get past the exterior." Elliot wondered if Joe was thinking the same of him.

"He was there too, with another man. And they were both there - both here." Vincent could smell them – leather, aftershave, Chinese food – scotch. "The other man carries a gun."

"Yeah. Narcotics cop on an extended leave of absence," Elliot supplied. "He's ok too – but I don't think there's anything at the centre of the tough exterior." Or if there was, it was so far down that Elliot wondered if anyone ever saw what was at the heart of Fin Tutuola. He realized that he was still a little heady from the scotch – he hadn't really stopped drinking, even after the other two left. What a strange day it had been! And now to top it off, here was Vincent – all he had to do was to turn around and he'd see what the big mystery was. "I'm a little drunk," he admitted. "My private investigator was killed this morning. Cleon – he was a good man. He got too close, I think. I started drinking then because I just can't seem to make the pain go away. And – and I'm going to turn around now, you can either stay and let me all the way in, let me see your face, or you can go. It's up to you." Fur…a hand so strong it could have crushed his collarbone, yet so gentle he understood the trust implied…the hands that had touched her – held her – loved her…

Vincent steadied himself; the other's pain was as tangible as his own. He'd come here for a reason – for no other reason than he was beginning to think that no one else really understood what he was going through. He knew that even Devin was giving up hope – he'd never admit it, but Vincent could see it in his brother's eyes. The pity – pity that's all he got from anyone. Unspoken pity. Especially Father. They all felt so sorry for him, but they were all afraid to say it. "I'm not going anywhere," he said softly, "But remember that there are reasons why I cling to the darkness."

"I understand," Elliot turned slowly… his office was dimly illuminated from the twinkling lights of the city far below…at first all he could make out was a shape in the shadows. A long, hooded, cloak nearly completely obscured Vincent's face and body. Then, slowly, Vincent stepped into the light and, with golden furred hands, took down the hood.

Elliot caught his breath – Cathy and this – had made love – had conceived a child – dear God, he _was_ beautiful in his way, though…and he was the father of Catherine's child… that would have made him beautiful in Elliot's eyes no matter what he looked like… "Who – who are you?"

Vincent laughed softly – at least Elliot hadn't asked _what_, though surely he must be thinking it. "I know only that I was found, as a babe, abandoned outside St. Vincent's Hospital – that is why my father called me Vincent. The people who found me, they took me in – took care of me. Kept me safe from a world that would not have understood me."

Slowly, carefully, Elliot made his way towards the – man? – standing on the other side of his office…memories surfaced…news paper reports… slashings…killings… "You protect them now, don't you? You keep them safe."

"Yes."

"And Catherine?"

"This is the first time I have been unable to protect her – unable to even find her," Vincent admitted. He doubled over as the pain hit him again, driving through him. Suddenly Elliot was at his side, a hand outstretched to help – fearlessly.

"What is it?"

Vincent steadied himself with the other's help. "I do not know – it started when I was at her apartment – I was angry because I could smell these other people there – then I felt this – this stabbing pain. I knew where to find you," he said, suddenly aware.

"I practically live here. Everyone knows that."

"No – I didn't have to think about it, I just knew where you would be. That I could trust you." He doubled over as the pain came again.

"Come on – sit down – is there someone I can call – somewhere I can take you?"

"No – no – I will rest a moment. I will be fine," Vincent wasn't so sure he believed his own words.

"You said you trusted me – there's got to be some way I can get you back to your family – their secret is safe with me. Please – let me help."

"No – it isn't that – you've done too much already. Just – let me rest a moment," Vincent felt some of his strength returning. "I can feel her – but only at the edge of my senses – I'm going to look for her tonight – maybe having even some small sense of her, I will find her this time."

"You can't go out into the streets like this – what if you collapse and someone finds you?"Elliot knew that if the situation were reversed, no one would be able to talk him into not looking, not if he finally thought he might be able to 'sense' her. Hell, even without any extra sensory perception, he wanted to go out, blindly, looking! But – he was human – how could Vincent have walked around New York all his life like this…? Where did he live? A hundred questions burned in Elliot's mind – but none of them was as important as finding Catherine.

"I will be all right," Vincent stood. "Meet me tomorrow night. Perhaps I will have good news for you."

Elliot watched him go, almost afraid to believe – but there was something about Vincent's conviction. "Cathy – I can see why you love him," he said to the shadows. "I can see that I'm pale by comparison – who wouldn't be? Who wouldn't be…" he poured himself another drink.

-

Catherine struggled against the restraints, trying to remain silent. She was soaked from the breaking of her water – she knew that they'd kill her as soon as the baby was born – he hadn't said it, but she knew – _Vincent!_ She cried silently. It wasn't death she feared – it was dying and leaving his baby to this monster, Gabriel…

-

"Gabriel," the worddripped from Kate'sblood-red lipsas little more than aharsh whisper. She wore black leather pants and a leather halter top that laced up the front – she'd gone through several sets of cloths getting shot and stabbed on her way towards this place, this final prize– tonight she wanted to look her best. For Gabriel.

_He is near. This is the place, _the crow led her to the door of the big, darkened building. _Something else is near by too._He'd been sensing something powerful moving in the night for some time, but was unable to put a name to what he felt.

"That doesn't matter. All that matters is Gabriel," she said, venomously. Kate had slicked back her hair tonight and pulled into a tight braid, so that only her bangs hung free, obscuring half her face. She'd painted her eyes completely black with kohl, thick lines streaked back almost to the hairline; her lips were painted a dark, bloody red. Her face was almost white. On a thick chain around her neck, she wore the ring that had been Andy's – a guy called Skinny had taken it off him after killing him. Skinny was dead. Real dead. She wondered if the coroner had found all his fingers and toes yet…

With each successive execution, Kate had grown darker, to the point where even her companion barely recognized her. He'd seen them go through this sort of bloodlust before – some of them started out timid and then got darker – some started like this and then mellowed some. She had been timid – human at first, but never hesitant. Now – now she was like something out of a nightmare and the crow was just happy that they were on the same side…

Up and up, she scaled the building – running, the rooftops pounded away under her feet – airborne! The exhilaration of the wind as she jumped an impossible span across the busy street below – further, further, faster, she ran, a thousand emotions burned inside – pain – rage – savage, wild joy – laughing manically, Kate leaped down to catch the two men who were guarding the side door of the tall building – they didn't have a chance to recover from their shock before they died, necks slashed open with ruthless efficiency.

Smiling, Kate licked the blood from one of the knives, savouring the thick, salty sweetness of it for one delightful moment; she cleaned the blades more properly on their shirts. She'd taken the wicked eight inch curved daggers (they were scimitar shaped) from one of the men who had killed her…she'd found them to be extremely sharp, even able to penetrate bone…_this little piggy went to market_… Poor Skinny, how he'd screamed as she counted off the little piggies…a sputter roused her from her revelry – one of the men had a walkie talkie – it was buzzing for attention.

"Jameson – come in, damn it – this is no time to be fooling around out there!"

Kate laughed.

_Focus, kiddo – you'll loose the element of surprise._

"Who gives a fuck?" She tromped the walkie talkie to bits with on stomp. "It doesn't matter. Tonight Gabriel dies – and then I can die too."

-

_catch me as I fall  
say you're here and it's all over now  
speaking to the atmosphere  
no one's here and I fall into myself  
this truth drives me into madness  
I know I can stop the pain if I will it all away  
if I will it all away_

_dont' turn away  
don't give into the pain  
don't try to hide  
though they're screaming your name  
don't close your eyes  
god knows what lies behind them  
don't turn out the light  
never sleep never die_

_I'm frightened by what I see  
but somehow I know that there's much more to come  
immobilized by my fear  
and soon to be blinded be tears  
I can stop the pain if I will it all away_

_fallen angels at my feet  
whispered voices at my ear  
death before my eyes  
lying next to me I fear  
she beckons me shall I give in  
upon my end shall I begin  
forsaken all I've fallen for I rise to meet the end_

_Evanescence_

_-_

"What do you mean, you've lost contact with Waznik and Jameson?" Gabriel demanded. "If you can't get them on the radio than go look for them – there is no such thing as 'loosing contact!'"

"Gabriel," the nurse opened the door to his office. "Sir – I just thought you'd like to know, she's at five centimeters. The birth is progressing rapidly – you might want to come down."

He looked at the man in front of him, "Take care of the problem. No screw ups tonight."

"Yes, sir," the other said meekly – he'd never seen Gabriel so impassioned.

-

Drawn by a growing urgency, Vincent ran through the night, clinging to the darkness for cover – faster and further – from alleyways to roof tops. He could feel her now – it was like a fog lifting from his senses, with each step he became more aware of her – her pain was intense – what was happening to her? He could sense her anguish – she didn't feel him, she didn't know that he was almost there. He wanted to cry out to her, to tell her not to be afraid – so much pain! There was so much pain…and so much anger…he'd never known Catherine to be so angry...

-

"There, there, my dear," Gabriel crooned at Catherine; she was strapped down. She'd managed to hide the fact that she'd started having contractions earlier, until her water broke and gave it away. Clever girl. He hoped that his son inherited some of that cleverness. She screamed as the next contraction wracked her body. "Give her something for the pain," he told the doctor. "No need to have her suffering."

"We've already given her all we can," the little man said. "We don't want to hurt the baby."

"My son is strong," Gabriel assured the man.

**"GO TO HELL!"** Cathy screamed with the next contraction. She wouldn't have this baby this way – she wouldn't!

"Doctor – she's fighting the birth process," the nurse advised.

"Catherine – so stubborn," Gabriel dipped a cloth in the cool water sitting near her bed and wiped her forehead with it.

_"Don't you touch me!"_

"So very stubborn – give her something for the pain," he repeated the order. "It should make her a little more compliant."

"No – no! I won't do this!" She pulled at her restraints with all her might; the held fast.

There was an urgent knocking at the door.

Angry, Gabriel knocked the nurse out of the way to open it himself; it was Thomas, the very capable man who was in charge of security. "Yes?"

"Sir – there's been a breach of security."

Catherine barely heard the words – Vincent?

"Take as many men as you need. Kill whoever is in the building. Thomas," he caught the man's arm, "Don't take any chances – maximum force, even if it doesn't seem like you need it." Of course, once they saw the creature, they'd know they needed it – who was he, where had he come from? He'd tried to force the information from Catherine – but in her condition, torture was out. Pity, he might never know…although an autopsy of it might be the next best thing… "And bring back the body," he added.

"Sir?"

"You'll understand when you see it. I'll want an autopsy."

**_"No!"_**

"Whatever you say, boss."

Gabriel turned back to her; she was struggling and saturated in sweat. "I'm sorry, Catherine– but you wouldn't tell me anything – so I'll have to get my own answers."

"No – please – I'll tell you whatever want to know – please don't kill him!" she sobbed.

Gabriel shrugged, "To tell the truth, my dear, I think I'll be safer once he's dead. Do it," he said to the doctor who was standing by with the needle. "Let's make our patient here a little more co-operative – and more comfortable," his tone was patronizing.

The needle stung – she could feel herself becoming weaker – woozy.

"Push," the nurse told her, "Bear down – that's right. Just let nature take its course."

Too weak to fight it – too light headed – the world seemed to be dimming.

"She might not live through the birthing process," the doctor warned Gabriel.

"She was never meant to."

-

Across half the city, he ran, drawing in ragged breath after ragged breath – instinct guided him now – no time for thought – no time for fear – she was so weak! What were they doing to her?

A darkened alley beckoned him with safety – this was the place…Vincent stopped, seeing the two bodies laying across the threshold. Voices nearing – men coming – in an instant they were dead, not even seeing what had hit them. Into the darkness – how many times had he passed by this very spot and not sensed her? Not caught even the faintest scent of her – not heard her voice calling in the darkness – it was as if she'd been under his very eyes this entire time and yet he couldn't see her for the darkness…instinct told him down – down into the depths of the building. Down the stairs – he heard men shouting – gunshots – but it was far ahead, far below – men screaming – and a horrible inhuman laugh. It rang through the stairwell – hysterical joy and feral madness mixed together in a young woman's voice…Narcissa's words came back to him…but there was no time to think. He could feel her near – her fear burned in his soul.

**_"CATHERINE!"_**

_-_

Kate stopped only for an instant when she heard the anguished roar.

_I told you you had company,_ the crow said from her shoulder; around the girl was nothing but carnage. If he hadn't known that they'd started out as human, he might never have guessed that the bodies around her had once been men. Her strength and speed were greater than anything he'd seen before – the black rage burning in her heart had become an unquenchable thirst. The little bitch didn't even give him a warning as she jumped over the railing, taking the 'express' route to the bottom of the stairs – it was all he could do to get into the air before she started falling. _Damn it – you might have a death wish, but I don't!_

_I'm not alive, remember?_

_You can still be stopped – if someone hurts me, you get hurt – even if the someone who hurts me is **you**! _He raged at her – not that she was listening. Tucking his wings, the crow dove after her. _Crows_, he thought bitterly, _are not meant to fly like this._

_-_

Down and down Vincent ran, finding bloody wreckage at every turn – _do not stand between Death and those it would claim as its own. _Vincent stepped over a man whose neck had been twisted 180 degrees; his lifeless eyes stared up – whatever his last vision had been, it had left an expression of horror etched on his bloodless face. Next to him, another man's back had been broken – it looked like he'd been struck from behind with the pipe lying next to him. Narcissa had spoken of a child – but – what child had so much strength – and so much rage…? Pain lanced through him, doubling him over – Elliot's words of caution rang in Vincent's memory – he could not be caught like this – he _must_ go on!

-

"One more good push," the nurse forced her hand against Catherine's stomach, forcing her to bear down; Catherine screamed in pain and defiance – Vincent wouldn't be able to stand against this man's entire army – he might be able to get through a few of them – but all? She wept as she felt the child pushed forth from her.

"He's beautiful!" Gabriel marveled.

"Let me see," Catherine pleaded, trying to lift her head – the drugs – the birth – she was so exhausted from fighting – there was nothing left to fight for it seemed…

"Gabriel," the doctor held the infant boy to him, after a quick clean up.

Tenderly, Gabriel took him, holding him so that Catherine could see. "See – he is perfect – my son." He smiled at her, approvingly, holding the child just out of her reach.

"Let me hold him – please – just once," she begged, straining to touch her baby. Just to touch him..._"Please!"_

Gabriel turned his back on her, "Kill her," said to the doctor.

"Please – just let me touch him," she sobbed. No – no, he had to at least let her hold her child once! _Just once…!_ But he was already gone – the doctor gave her a pitying look.

"This won't hurt, you'll just drift off to sleep."

"No – please – you can't do this – please, you're a doctor –" she cried.

"Hold her still, please," he said to the nurse.

As Catherine sobbed, begging, the woman held her arm steady and the man pushed the needle into it.

"Vincent," she whispered – she could almost imagine that she felt him – near – so near… it didn't matter…the doctor was right, it didn't hurt, not physically – but the pain of loosing her child to that monster – that hurt more than anything she'd ever known…silent tears fell – too exhausted to cry…too exhausted to even keep her eyes open any longer…

-

_Hold on to me love  
You know I can't stay long  
All I wanted to say was 'I love you and I'm not afraid'  
Can you hear me?  
Can you feel me in your arms?_

_Holding my last breath  
Safe inside myself  
Are all my thoughts of you  
Sweet raptured light it ends here tonight_

_I'll miss the winter_

_A world of fragile things  
Look for me in the white forest  
Hiding in a hollow tree (come find me)  
I know you hear me  
I can taste it in your tears_

_Holding my last breath  
Safe inside myself  
Are all my thoughts of you  
Sweet raptured light it ends here tonight_

_Closing your eyes to disappear  
You pray your dreams will leave you here  
But still you wake and know the truth  
No one's there_

_Say goodnight  
Don't be afraid  
Calling me, calling me as you fade to black_

_(Say goodnight...)  
Holding my last breath  
Safe inside myself  
Are all my thoughts of you  
Sweet raptured light it ends here tonight_

_Evanescence_

_-_

"You!" Gabriel stopped in the hall, suddenly aware of the girl who had just come from the shadows. "I killed you!"

Kate grinned, giving him a mocking 'golf clap'. "You have a much better memory than any of your men did. Who's the kid?"

"My son."

Kate stood on tip toe to peer over the hulking brutes with guns. "He doesn't look like you."

"Kill her!" Gabriel ordered – while his men gunned down the girl – the girl who should be dead – he fled towards the roof top…

-

"**_Catherine!"_** Vincent felt her slip away into the abyss of darkness…a new instinct drew him upwards – his heart grieving as he felt her slipping further from him – up, he must go up – the pull was incredible. He was forced upwards, towards the roof – his child needed him – wind – cold – he must hurry or they'd both be lost to him!

-

Vincent burst into the night just as the helicopter whirled into the darkness – he fell to his knees – the child was gone – Gabriel was gone…everything – lost to him now… Defeat. Cold and hard it fell on him – he'd failed her. Failed them both. Silent tears fell as the world crumbled in on him…

"Vincent –?"

Her voice; he turned "Catherine – I thought I'd lost you!" She was so – weak – he could barely hear her heart beating.

"I'm dying," she whispered, as he took her into his arms; she was so cold – the climb – but she knew – she knew he'd be here. He'd feel their child – he'd come. His warmth filled her with hope – not for her – but for their child.

"No – no you cannot die – you must not!"

"I am," she tried to be strong – strong for him. He would need all her strength if he was going to carry on – and he had to carry, for the sake of his son. She had to make him understand that. "We loved, there was a child."

"I know – I know. Peter told me," he held her tightly – she was so cold!

"He's perfect, Vincent – he has your eyes – he's perfect." Sleep. Soon she could sleep. Safe in his arms she could sleep. "Promise me you'll find him?"

"Don't leave me – please!" He cried. "Catherine – _Catherine_!"

"Promise me!"

"I will – I promise, I will," he wept, holding her close, trying to warm her, willing her heart to keep beating, though he could hear it failing. "I'll find him. I'll bring him home."

-

Kate emerged onto the rooftop and cursed– she was too late. She'd known it five minutes after Gabriel took off up the stairs – they guys he left behind to 'kill her' were the best she'd ever seen. They still died – but it didn't go fast or easy. Damn it, now she was going to have to start looking for him all over again...

The bird swooped out of the building and landed on her shoulder. _There will be a next time._

"I know," she spoke aloud, turning to leave...then...something deep inside her stirred, stopping her in her tracks. Watching. Listening. The cloaked man, huddled over the woman, the pain in his voice, the slowing of the woman's heart beat – the child she'd seen with Gabriel… The blood lust faded from her heart in the face of such sorrow – such loss. Such love.

-

"Though lovers be lost," Catherine quoted, gazing up into those amazing blue eyes of his. How she had dreamed of a life of maybe and some day – of a happy life with this man…

"Love shall not," Vincent spoke back the next line, shuddering as he felt her life ebbing away from her. She closed her eyes – he held her tight, whispering, "And death shall have no dominion."

"You know, I think I read that memo," Kate said softly, easing up to the side of the man – _man?_

Vincent snarled at the girl refusing to let the creature near Catherine. It – she –smelled – of death. Narcissa's dreams… This blood soaked girl was a shattered shell with a blackened heart – but – her eyes. Something in the girl's eyes spoke of the person she must have once been. "She's gone," he said softly, still holding Catherine to him, but letting the girl approach. There was nothing here for her – nothing she could want. Even if he could get Catherine to a hospital now, there was nothing more to do…she was too far gone.

_You could help her,_ the crow spoke into Kate's mind. _You have the power to fix this._

_But – what is that thing?_

_Does it matter? _

Slowly, carefully, Kate reached out and laid her fingers on the creature's hand – the torrent of emotions overwhelmed her – so much pain – so much heartbreak – so much anguish – failure. He'd failed her. He loved her. He would die if it would bring her back he wanted to die with her now, even though he had a reason to live, a son - he'd failed them both…so much guilt – it weighed his soul… "No," she said softly. "You did all you could. She knew that."

"I loved her with all my heart – but it wasn't enough. I lost her."

"No. Not yet." Gingerly, Kate took the woman's arm into her lap; she could feel the woman's pulse weakening, but she was a fighter – all she needed was a little help.

"What are you doing?"

"You'll have to trust me."

_What do you know,_ the big black bird landed next to her, _There just might be hope for you yet. _She had only barely hesitated in offering help – she hadn't bitched and moaned about 'who was there to help her' – one selfless act was all it took sometimes, to bring a person back from their own abyss, to remind her that she'd once been human… the crow knew, even if she failed to realize, that Kate wouldn't be resting any time soon. Even Gabriel's death would not be enough – not for Kate. Even if she didn't yet realize it, the crow knew…he only hoped she'd be able to cope with it when the time came…a risen-dead, on the brink of the abyss was a terrifying thing.

Vincent watched in frightened amazement as the pin-prick wound in Catherine's arm began to ooze clear liquid. "How is this possible?"

Kate gave him a smile – the kind she used to give her brother, when they were kids, back before all the bad stuff. "How are you possible? How am I possible? How are the stars and the moon possible?" She tucked the woman's arm back into his grasp. "She was close to death. She's going to need rest and care – but I get the feeling you're up for that." Kate stood – somewhere out there was the one thing stopping her from final rest. Gabriel.

"Thank you."

Kate shrugged, "It wasn't much. It's still gonna be a while before she's ok."

"If you had not helped, she would be dead by now," Vincent stood, still unable to believe. "Where will you go?" Holding Catherine close to his chest to keep her warm, he could feel her heart beat. It was still slow, but it was steady.

"Gabriel took something from me. I can't get it back – but I can pay him back for what he cost me."

"He has my son."

"I know – I saw them – if I could have stopped him, I would have. Not for you," she added. "For me."

Vincent nodded. "Do you know where he's gone?"

"No – but I'll find him."

"What is your name?"

She smiled, "It doesn't matter. I don't have a name anymore."

"I think you do – I think that there is more of you left than you believe."

"What do you know about me?"

"Only what a friend told me. I could take you some place – a safe place where you could rest."

Kate laughed, "I can take care of myself, thanks." She heard the distant wail of sirens. "You gonna be ok – getting her outa here?"

"Yes."

They walked together a while in silence, making their way through the carnage that had been left in their wake. "I promised her that I would find our son," Vincent said at last. "As soon as she is well enough for me to leave her, in intend to keep that promise."

"I have the feeling Gabriel's going to be gunning for both of us long before we start looking for him." Kate watched the way he cradled her – his tenderness – his love – such love…she'd never seen anything quite like it before. Certainly not in the part of the city where she grew up…but maybe…a half-a-memory surfaced, the way her father used to look at her mother…it had been so long since she'd seen them…no, not so long…they were waiting. Somewhere, on the other side… "My name is Kate," she said, once they'd reached the street.

"I am Vincent. She is Catherine."

"I heard you in there – calling for her."

"She is my life. Are you sure you would not like to come with us?"

"Well – I don't really need food or rest. But a shower would feel pretty damned good about now."

"I cannot offer a shower – but perhaps a bath?"

"Any port in a storm – as long as you don't think your friends will freak – I mean, look at me." She was covered in blood.

"I have come home in similar condition," he assured her – although he wasn't entirely certain that some of them would not 'freak.' Certainly, he was not looking forward to what Father would have to say…police were descending on the building now – someone somewhere must have heard the gunshots and called them.


	6. Six

**Chapter Six:**

"Father – Father!"

"What is it Zach?" Jacob Wells looked up from the pages of the book he wasn't really reading; Vincent had been gone since nightfall. Gone Above. Gone all night – yet though he did this every night, Jacob still worried. This wouldn't be the first night he himself had barely slept, while his son searched for her.

"The sentries – they've seen Vincent – he has Catherine! They're in the outer Tunnels!"

"What – Catherine – is she –?"

The young man shook his head, "I don't know, he's carrying her, but he hasn't stopped to call for help – and – they're not alone."

Jacob took off his reading glasses, trying not to scowl too deeply. "Not alone?"

Zach shook his head, "A girl is with them – she's covered in blood."

"What? Take me there." Jacob grabbed his cane and his medical bag.

"They were last seen starting down great stairwell."

"All right – if we hurry we can meet them at the bottom of it."

-

"This is one helluva place," Kate whispered aloud as they began descending downwards – the bird on her shoulder was huddling closer to her. Hedidn't seem to like being underground.

_I'm a bird, not a gopher!_He informed her, and not for the first time.

"Yes, that it is," Vincent said softly; wrapped in his cloak, held close against his chest, Catherine was beginning to warm up at last. "The people who live here came to escape the harshness of the world Above – very few know of it's existence. We rely on secracy to exist."

Kate laughed, "What's that old saying, dead men tell no tales? I think your secret's safe with me."

"How did you come to be?" He was almost afraid to ask – he was grateful for her help – but so many questions burned in his mind.

"I was murdered. Just about a year ago, some of Gabriel's goons broke into my house – they were looking for my brother, Andy. He'd been working for Gabriel, I guess – he stole some money from him. He left me there to die – he knew they were coming," cold bitterness filled her. "He knew Gabriel would find the house – and find me there. He ran away and he didn't take me with him."

"Perhaps he could not."

"No – he could. I didn't know it then – I kept believing he'd be back. Even tied up, bleeding – hurt – I kept thinking that any moment he'd come in and find me, untie me, take me away…only he didn't. He'd run away with his girlfriend. That's why Gabriel's men made it look like he'd killed me – so the police would find him for them. They arranged to have him murdered in prison. I loved my brother, Vincent – but he abandoned me. He knew what they'd do when they found me – and he left there anyway."

"Why would a brother leave his sister in such terrible danger?"

"Because I didn't fit into his life-plan. He had a girlfriend –she didn't like me much. I didn't like her either. In the end, she ran away without him. She's never even been to his grave." A memory surfaced then…a big black man…leaving flowers. "The only one who ever visited us was a cop. The guy who tried to prove that Andy didn't kill me. He leaves me a flower every month - a pink rose. I never even knew him – and he leaves me flowers. How truly pathetic is that. A total stranger leaves me flowers when my brother left me to die."

"Sometimes a stranger is only a friend that you haven't met yet."

She almost laughed, "You're some kind of philosopher."

"No. Just a man who has come to believe in miracles."

At that, Kate did laugh – it was a real laugh, her own laugh, not the crazed sound Vincent had heard in the building.

-

Far below, Jacob could hear the echoes of the conversation – no words could be made out – but he heard the laugh and the easy sound of his son's voice – the voice of a young woman. At length, they came into view – Vincent held Catherine close – but his manner told Jacob that she was still alive. The girl just behind him – that was another matter. She was young, dressed in black leather and soaked head to toe with blood, though she herself seemed unscathed. Her face was a ghastly harlequin's mask of death – it was also streaked with blood. A pair of wicked looking blades hung at her sides. For all that this creature possessed the body of a child, she was no little girl. The black bird on her shoulder eyed him – in its gaze, Jacob saw the glint of intelligence…

"Father – this is Kate. She saved Catherine's life."

"You're the doctor?" Kate asked.

"Yes – I am a doctor," he continued to regard her with suspicion.

"She was given anearly lethaldose of morphine – she's not out of the woods yet, but she's alive. And apparently she just delivered a baby. I wish I could tell you more." _Morphine..._that's what Gabriel had used to kill her...Kate's rage smoldered, white hot just below the surface...

"But – she should only be at six months –" Jacob looked to his son for confirmation.

"She had our son," he affirmed, his voice tight with sorrow. "She told me that he is perfect – Gabriel has him."

"Gabriel?"

"It's a long story," Kate interjected.

"Later then – come, let me see her. Thank you," he said, almost as an afterthought to the girl.

The crow on her shoulder squawked at him.

Jacobgave Catherine a cursory looking over, checking her heart rate, breathing, and the responsiveness of her pupils. She was unconscious and her breathing was a little shallow – but she didn't seem to be suffering from an overdose of any sort. "How much morphine, do either of you know?"

"A lot. Sorry," Kate shrugged.

"She was dying, Father," Vincent told him.

Father looked from one to the other – and to young Zach who was silently waiting. "All right," He took a small note pad and pencil from his bag and wrote a hasty note. "Zach – get this to Peter, Above."

-

From her roof, Diana watched the fleet of ambulances hurrying past – Mark put his arms around her, but she was oblivious to his presence.

"Diana? Diana!"

"Hmm – sorry," she murmured.

"I asked you if you were getting cold."

"No." She let her gaze drift back up to the full moon hanging so low over the city; somewhere out there was a woman, pregnant and afraid. Somewhere out there, there was a man who knew her deepest secrets. A man who had given her a rose bush grafted with red and white roses – a man who loved her in what had to be the most complete manner Diana could imagine…so why wasn't this man coming forward? Who was he? She kept thinking that if she found him, she'd find answers – and those answers might lead her closer to Cathy Chandler's whereabouts.

"I'm heading home," Mark said, for the third time.

"Hmm – be safe," she kissed his cheek, absently. Before he was even gone, she'd returned her gaze to the moon. _Vincent. Who are you? **Where** are you?_

_-_

_Upon a darkened night  
the flame o love was burning in my breast  
And by a lantern bright  
I fled my house while all in quiet rest  
Shrouded by the night  
and by the secret star I quickly fled  
The veil concealed my eyes  
while all within lay quiet as the dead  
Oh night though was my guide  
oh night more loving than the rising sun  
Oh night that joined the lover  
to the beloved one  
transforming each of them into the other  
Upon that misty night  
in secrecy, beyond such mortal sight  
Without a guide or light  
than that which burned so deeply in my heart  
That fire t'was led me on  
and shone more bright than of the midday sun  
To where he waited still  
it was a place where no one else could come  
Within my pounding heart  
which kept itself entirely for him  
He fell into his sleep  
beneath the cedars all my love I gave  
From o'er the fortress walls  
the wind would brush his hair against his brow  
And with its smoothest hand  
caressed my every sense it would allow  
I lost myself to him  
and laid my face upon my lovers breast  
And care and grief grew dim  
as in the mornings mist became the light  
There they dimmed amongst the lilies fair  
there they dimmed amongst the lilies fair_

_Loreena McKennitt_

_-_

Mary, needing desperately to see it with her own eyes, met them half way back, "Oh, Vincent! Catherine – she really is alive!" Mary could hardly see through the tears – but yes – it looked as if Catherine really, truly, _was_ alive.

"Yes, Mary," Vincent said told her softly, looking down at the woman in his arms for the hundredth time since he'd so nearly lost her. It was like a waking dream – a dream that had started out as a nightmare. "She is alive."

The old woman let out the breath she didn't quite realize she'd been holding. "Oh thank goodness – and you're all right?"

"I am fine," he assured her. "But neither of us would be all right if not for Kate," he nodded towards the girl who seemed content to hide in his shadow.

"Kate? – oh!" Mary cried, seeing the girl at last. "Good Heaven's child, are you all right?" The poor thing – she was soaked – with…blood! "Are you injured?" Mary cast a questing look to Father – he said nothing. He didn't even meet her gaze, but just kept trudging along – oh, he was very clearly unhappy about something…but if this girl had helped, surely she deserved their trust.

"I'm not hurt," Kate said quietly; the old man didn't like her. He might not know what she was, but clearly he sensed something. Oh well – he hadn't turned her away. There was something in that – but still, it stung. Not that she felt she deserved anything – not even for what she'd done. She hadn't done it for him, she'd done it for Vincent, for his grief, for the sake of pain that was as deeper than her own. For the sake of someone who should never have to know so such sorrow – and perhaps, for the sake of a child who deserved to be raised by his mother. Gabriel – anger still burned in her soul – but for now, it would wait…he would wait. She would find him – and when she did there would be reckoning…but until then, she would see Catherine safely home, safely healed.

"Child, are you sure – you're – covered in blood," Mary looked up at Vincent. His expression was unreadable – yet at least it was clear he compassion he felt for this girl – he sheltered her with his presence – though she didn't seem afraid just – weary. Like a child who had been badly hurt and didn't know how to trust – it wasn't an unfamiliar emotion.

"Mary," Father said, curtly, "I sent Zach up to fetch Peter – I may need some things that we haven't got here. Catherine had the baby."

"Oh!" Mary gasped – wrapped in the cloak it was impossible to tell…but surely, Catherine should only have been at six months…

"Just a little while ago, from the sounds of it," Father went on. "I'll need warm water for washing, clean blankets and clean clothing for her."

"Yes – yes of course – I'll get the children to help – we'll meet you in Vincent's chamber," she hurried off – though not as spry as she once had been, Mary willed her legs to carry her as fast as they might, so that everything would be ready when they arrived.

-

The police officers looked over the scene – over the sheer carnage of it – in sickened awe. A few had become too ill to remain – even tough as nails coroner, Dr. Melinda Warner, was having a hard time of it as she walked through the grisly scene. "Good God," Warner, just shook her head when she saw the guy with his head turned a full hundred and eighty degrees. "What did this?"

"Hey, Doc!" called a familiar voice.

"Detective Logan," she headed down the darkened corridor (power it seemed, had been cut), "What is it?"

"I don't know," Mike Logan motioned her into the small room. "You tell me."

The table was an ob-gyn's – and it was pretty obvious what the fluids were. The door she'd passed through had been thick and clearly locked from the outside – the walls were bare, no instruments in the room, except for a few basics on a pushcart – and the table was fitted with four point restraints. She picked up a bottle from the floor – it was labeled morphine. Enough to kill a person, and empty. "Hey guys," she called to the techs, "Make sure and get a couple of samples of this fluid. And bag that," she handed the bottle over to the crime scene tech.

"What in the hell happened here," Logan asked her.

"Someone had a baby. Someone who was for one reason or another being restrained – then it looks like that someone was shot up with enough morphine to kill them twice over – at least assuming that the someone is a woman of average height and weight."

"So where's the body?"

"That's where you come in, Detective," she told him with a wry smile. "And while you're at it – there's no sign that whoever assisted in the deliveryhung around long, either. So I'd say that somewhere out there, there's a kid whose mother was held against her will and then left for dead."

"Maybe she was just psycho – you know, too sick to take care of herself?" Logan postulated, hopefully. There were too many unanswered questions already…

"Maybe. Maybe not. Like I said – you're the detective. But I'd start by following the blood trial," she pointed to the trail that led out of the room. "I'd say she was bleeding pretty heavily from the birth – it's almost like whoever attended her wasn't concerned for the mother's welfare." The afterbirth was still pooled on the table – like no one bothered to even clean up before splitting.

"You're sure she didn't wander out into the street somehow?" Logan asked. Possibilities drifted through his mind – black market baby? Angry father and ex wife/girlfriend? None of that explained the liter of bodies unless one or both was connected to one of New York's fine 'Families.'

"At a guess, I'd say she didn't wander anywhere of her own volition – when I get a chance to run a tox screen on the blood, I can give you a solid yes or no."

"But you don't think so."

"It couldn't hurt to have a couple of the guys who are getting green in the gills to start looking – but no, I don't really think she'll turn up alive."

"Man – what a nightmare," Logan muttered.

Warner favoured him with a small smile – she really didn't envy the police. Her job would be hard enough – cause of death on a couple of dozen bodies and to offer up an explanation of what happened here. Mike Logan got to be the one to figure out why and who…

-

Mary was waiting with Devin, Jamie, Mouse, Kipper, Brooke and Geoffrey – they had blankets, cloths, lots of hot water and towels, as well as hot tea and a plate of food.

Vincent gazed on the greeting party – on their faces, the concern, the love – how lucky he realized he was. He'd always known it, but meeting Kate, seeing what kind of harshness the world Above was really capable of – he was grateful yet again for his family.

"Really ok?" Mouse wanted to know. It was obvious from the expressions on their faces, that he spoke for all of them.

"Yes, she's really ok," Vincent told him, patiently. What would the world above do with someone like Mouse, someone so very special – so clever and yet so innocent?

"Mary said she had the baby –?" Brooke took half a step forward.

"She did – it's going to be all right," Vincent told the girl softly.

"Said you helped," Mouse set down his bundle and stepped up to Kate.

Kate blinked – she felt Vincent watching – he favoured this one with special fondness – he loved them all, but this one was truly special to his heart. She smiled at the blond boy – he really wasn't so much older than she was – just about her brother's age, maybe. He, of all of them, was fearless of her – she could sense it, see it in his eyes. Open, innocent, honest curiosity. "I was in the right place at the right time," she told him gently, wondering if this boy even knew _how_ to hate.

"You have a bird – big bird. Friendly?"

"Sometimes." She gave the bird a dark look out of the corner of her eye. It squawked and ruffled its feathers a bit, telling her yet again that he was a bird, not a damned gopher.

"All right," Father announced – the others were still gathered around Vincent and Catherine – all but Devin, who was standing off to the side, cloaked in shadow. Father gave him a questioning look – Devin continued to find the floor interesting, it seemed. Father went on, to the others, "You've all seen that Catherine is fine – but please, I'm going to need space to work," Father gave Mary a look; she gently ushered everyone out, with soft, reassuring words. Everything would be fine, all was well, now that Catherine was back with them – oh, he hoped she was right…

"Vincent," Devin caught his brother's arm– guilt and shame plaguing his heart. He had given up. He was so glad to be wrong – but he'd given up – it felt as if he'd betrayed some silent trust between them… "I – I'm sorry – I doubted. I should have known," he was so near tears himself. If Vincent had given up – she might really have died – she looked so weak and pale…

"It's all right," Vincent told him. "I don't blame you for doubting."

"It's not all right. I am so sorry."

Kate found a quiet corner to hide in – she watched the exchange. She was too acutely aware of the emotions around her.

_That's because these people are open._

_What do you mean? _She asked the bird.

_Most of you Monkeys walk around guarded – closed off to each other. It's a wonder even you can feel anything from most of them. These people are open to each other. And to strangers it seems._

_The old guy doesn't seem so open._

_He's the leader – they call him Father. His job is to be suspicious of outsiders._

_I guess I'm as far outside their world as one can get._

"I'm just glad I was wrong," Devin continued.

"Me too."

"Devin," Father called him over, "I know – why don't you lend me a hand?"

Devin blinked – they'd had words – harsh words in the past – although wounds had healed, so many scars remained. "I don't want to be in the way."

"You won't be."

"Kate," Mary approached the girl, not quite sure what she wanted to say. Father's disdain was clear – but he could be so hard headed sometimes. Taking care of all of them must take it's toll…but surly he could show this girl a little more compassion? "Would you like a hot bath – a chance to rest? Maybe some food? We haven't got much, but what we have, we'll gladly share."

"I'm not hungry – but I'd really love a bath," Kate replied, almost shyly. No, it was clear that these people didn't have much – but they had each other, they had Vincent. They had love. The even had the old doctor guy, grumpy as he was, to look out for them. The crow was right – they were so open. It almost hurt – how she wished she could have found this place when she was still alive…but then, she never would have had the chance. She wouldn't have thought to dream of it before Gabriel shattered her world…before Andy betrayed her love and trust. Before that, she'd been happy…

"Come on, then – I'll show you the way and see about getting you some clean cloths," Mary guided her gently out the door.

-

Carefully, Father and Devin unwrapped Vincent's cloak from around Catherine; she was soaked in blood and amniotic fluid – it was clear that the doctor who had delivered teh baby had no regard for her well being.

"Will she be all right?" Vincent asked, softly – it was so hard to see her like this.

"I believe so. Help me get this off her," Father said of the wet, cold gown she was wearing. "I'll see what Mary brought for her," he added, a part of him feeling a bit self-conscious as he watched Vincent gingerly undress Catherine – what had happened that night in the cave? He knew the obvious part – obviously they'd done what couples do to create children…but what had led up to it – he prayed that his son had been gentle and kind, because in that moment, Vincent had been so lost to his own darkness…yet whatever they had done, Catherine must have been willing. She had brought him back to them – she had seemed exhausted but happy when he saw her – whatever she had done, she had done it willingly…he only wondered if she'd done it out of love or necessity…too many questions, Jacob chided himself. Too many questions for which there were just no answers – because even if she was awake to tell him, he knew that he would never ask.

Together the three of them washed and then dressed Catherine into the soft nightgown Mary had provided – Vincent held her while Father and Devin cleared the bed of his cloak and then they tucked her into the covers.

"I came as quickly as I could," Peter appeared at the door. "How is she?"

"She's lost some blood," Jacob told him, "But she seems to be all right."

"Your note said she'd been given a lethal injection of morphine?" Gently, Peter examined her – she seemed a little dehydrated, as Jacob had also surmised – her heart was weak – but she was alive. Seeing Catherine now with his own eyes, Peter Alcott took just a moment to send a silent prayer of thanks. She was alive.

"By some miracle, she survived," Jacob told him, giving Vincent a sidelong glance. Whoever – whatever – Kate was – she was no ordinary child. However, he could still see through a child's lie – there had been no 'nearly lethal' injection. Catherine should be dead – yet, she was not. And, he supposed in the end that wasall that really mattered…nonetheless, he'd be happier if he knew more about this 'child' Vincent had brought into their midst.

-

The chin-high water in the natural bathing pool must be heated by an underground spring, Kate mused; its heat felt wonderful on her skin. Though she no longer suffered stiff muscles, she still enjoyed thewarmth of the water– maybe it was because she knew how cold the cold could really feel, inside… She submerged her whole self into the warm depths, allowing the current to wash over her entire body, to wash away the memories, at least for the moment …the bird was sitting on one of the benches against the wall, continuing to grumble about it being unnatural for him to be underground. Underground was for gophers – at least he wasn't urging her to stop wasting time…funny, this was the first time in a while he hadn't been concerned with her not doing what she was _supposed_ to do (killing, vengeance, righting the wrongs that had brought her back…) …she'd have to ask him about that, later. She didn't really want to think about that right now – she didn't really want to think at all. Just _being_ was enough. She scrubbed her face with her hands, removing the death mask make up.

"Is it ok if I come in?" Inquired a soft female voice from outside the large chamber.

"Sure," Kate wiped the water from her eyes. She recognized the blond girl as one of the ones who had gathered at Vincent's door to welcome him back.

"I'm Jamie – I brought some soap and a comb – and some cloths and a towel," she set down the bundle on a bench, carefully weary of the big black bird.

"He really is capable of being friendly," Kate said, as much to the bird as to the girl. "My name's Kate."

Jamie set the soap and comb down on the smooth ledge of the pool.

"Thank you," Kate waded over towards the ledge – she could sense that the other's curiosity was piqued, despite her obvious trepidation.

"You don't seem to be hurt."

"I don't get hurt," Kate told her honestly. "At least not in the way that other people do."

"You're – not – a regular person."

"I used to be, but I'm not now."

"How did you get like this?"

"Someone I trusted allowed bad things to happen to me. Sometimes a soul can't rest until the wrong things are put right – the only thing is that I'm not sure what all the wrong things are – or how to make them all right again." It was Andy's fault – only he was already dead. She knew she'd never forgive him…but until she somehow found a way to work through that part of it, his part in her death, how would she ever rest…? She didn't want to think about it.

"What are you going to do now?"

Kate shrugged; she took up the bar of soap – it smelled wonderfully of fresh apples and mint. "I'm going to get clean – and dressed – and see how Catherine is doing. Then I'm probably going to take my 'friend' over there back to the surface so he can go looking for the man who took Vincent and Catherine's son. Besides – if I have to hear one more time that he's a crow and not a gopher, I'm going to show him what it feels like to be a fish!" She gave the bird a dark glower; it squawked and flapped its wings at her. Kate stuck her tongue out at the bird.

Jamie laughed; then: "You can really understand him?"

"Every blessed complaint." Kate rinsed and hauled herself out of the hot water, somewhat reluctantly. The soap was already washing away, pulled under by the gentle current. "Where does it go?"

"The current washes it to the sea"

"You mean the Hudson river?"

Jamie shook her head, "No, the sea, underground – maybe I can show it to you, if you have the time."

"Some other time," Kate said, a little sadly. She'd like to have the chance to explore the wonders of this underground community. She could see why Vincent protected it – and the people in it – so fiercely. She toweled herself off and gave a quick perusal to the cloths she'd been brought. The leather pants were soft and supple, like doeskin – they were a soft shade of green. The sweater offered was the same muted shade and made of softest wool; she pulled it on; it had a low cut neckline and long sleeves (she was probably supposed to have put the turtleneck on under it.)

"It gets pretty chilly down here," Jamie cautioned, as Kate handed the turtleneck and undershirt back to her.

"I don't feel the cold all that much. But I appreciate the cloths – I'm not used to kindness. I'll get them back to you as soon as I can." She could feel that these weren't from some chest of extra's – Jamie had brought her own cloths.

"Keep them. A gift."

"I couldn't."

"It's a small thanks – you brought Catherine back to us. Vincent said so."

Kate looked at the other girl in wonder – Vincent said so. That's all they needed, just the word of one man, to believe in someone's goodness.

_I told you they weren't like the rest of the Monkeys._

_Oh shut up already! _Kate chided the thing good-naturedly. _Do you ever get tired of being right all the time?_

_Not really._


	7. Seven

**Chapter Seven:**

"I have a lead in the Chandler case – I thought you might want to know," Diana stopped by Joe's apartment on her way back from the coroner's office. Sometimes she hated having friends – Melinda Warner hadn't been sure about much, but she'd been very sure about one thing. The likely hood of their finding Catherine Chandler alive had just dropped from slim to none.

"What kind of lead?"

"This is what the coroner handed me," she gave him the report to see for himself. "The blood at the scene matches Chandler's blood type."

"But –?" Joe looked over the report. "Amniotic fluid? That means she had a baby." He looked at the photos – the doctor's table – the restraints…what the hell was going on? What kind of hell had Cathy been put through – and where was she now? If she'd been missing for six months, she had to have been at least three months along when she was nabbed – why hadn't she told him? The flu…she'd had the flu…it had only been the flu… it was a mistake, Cathy had had _the flu_… "Where is she now?" he asked hopefully.

"You need to read the rest of the report, Joe."

He skimmed it. Then read it more thoroughly. Then read it again, shaking to the very core. "No. No. There's no body – there's no proof. No. No – Bennett, _no_." He was barely aware of the tears trickling from the corners ofhis eyes.

"I'm sorry – even the detectives working the case don't think it's likely the mother survived."

"But – we don't know for sure – it could be someone else – maybe some other woman…Cathy wasn't pregnant. It was just the flu."

"It wasn't the flu, Joe. I've confirmed the pregnancy."

"What?"

"I talked to the nurse who told her – she said that the day Chandler donated blood, they screened it – routine procedure. She was pregnant – she hadn't known before that. The coroner checked this blood sample against Chandler's records from the hospital. I'm sorry."

"It could be a mistake. It could still be someone else!"

"Joe – **JOE!"** She grabbed him. "Listen to me – the building was traced back through about six holding companies to this guy Gabriel. Catherine Chandler was pregnant when she disappeared – you just said she thought she had the flu – that makes sense, if she didn't know she was pregnant, she might have thought it was just the flu."

"No – no!"

"Joe, _**her blood**_ was found all over this table," She shoved the picture into his face. "There was enough morphine in that blood to kill a person twice her size, twice over. Even without a body, you do the math. It's her. She's gone. I'm sorry."

"But – the blood trail goes up to the roof – then disappears." He was shaking – the police report Bennett had just made him read said that the blood trail went up to the roof… maybe…maybe…? He looked to her hopefully, silently begging for some other conclusion.

"There's a helipad on the roof. Think about it."

"Why would he take her body away? It doesn't make any sense!"

"It doesn't have to make sense to be true."

"No. No – she can't be – no." He couldn't even say the word.

"I'll find the guy who killed her, Joe," Diana promised him. "I'm sorry I can't do better than that."

-

Joe Maxwell stared at the door for a long time after Diana had gone.

Cathy. No.

Not Cathy – _it couldn't be true. It just **couldn't.**_

He read the report again.

He did the math.

Tears came, uncontrollably – he shook, aching inside. For six months he'd refused to give up and now…now there was only emptiness. Not even a body – just a blood trail leading up to a roof…and a missing baby. Finally, when there were no more tears, Joe picked up the phone.

"Elliot Burch's office," the secretary said.

"Yeah. Put me through to Burch. This is Joe Maxwell."

-

_When the evening falls and the daylight is fading,  
from within me calls - could it be I am sleeping?  
For a moment I stray, then it holds me completely.  
close to home - I cannot say.  
close to home feeling so far away.  
As I walk there before me a shadow  
from another world, where no other can follow.  
carry me to my own, to where I can cross over...  
close to home - I cannot say.  
close to home feeling so far away.  
Forever searching; never right, I am lost  
in oceans of night. Forever  
hoping I can find memories,  
those memories I left behind.  
Even though I leave will I go on believing  
that this time is real - am I lost in this feeling?  
like a child passing through, never knowing the reason.  
I am home - I know the way.  
I am home - feeling oh, so far away._

_Enya/Roma Ryan_

_-_

"Burch?" Joe asked the deathly silence on the other end.

"I'm still here," Elliot was barely breathing - he wasn't sure he could even feel his own body, it had all just gone numb when he heard the words ..._she's gone...Catherine...was gone..._ He wanted to ask if Joe was sure, but he could hear in the other man's voice, ragged with grief, that there was no doubting... If Joe believed, what hope did he have that it might be a mistake? Yet…Vincent…he'd seemed so sure he'd find her – so sure that when they met tonight he'd have good news. Elliot had gone to bed believing that he'd see her soon. The thought of never seeing her again…a pain like nothing he'd ever felt before tore through his soul, leaving in its wake an empty, cold, jagged hole...

"I need to see this guy she's been dating, Elliot," said Joe - his voice was flat. "I need to talk to him, to find out what he knows. She was pregnant – she had the baby. Only it's missing too. I have to talk this guy. Please - figure out some way to make that happen."

Baby – she'd had the baby? They were both gone – what littlewas left of Elliot's world began to crumble, one piece at a time as he watched, helpless to keep it from slipping away. "I'm supposed to see him tonight."

"Good. Where should I meet you?"

"You can't come with me, Joe. I'm sorry – there are things – things you don't know."

"Look, I don't give a damn who this guy is – I'm meeting him!"

"You can't. I'll tell him – I'll find out what he knows. I'll call you tomorrow." Before Maxwell could say more, Elliot hung up the phone.

-

Joe sat on his end in stunned silence, staring at the receiver. _Son of a bitch! _He dialed Fin's number…

-

With numb composure, Elliot asked his secretary to hold his calls and clear his schedule for the rest of the day. Catherine – dead? It was too much to believe – yet…Joe wouldn't believe it if it wasn't true… but maybe - _maybe _- he was wrong...

Vincent would know for sure – Elliot had to tell himself not to give up hope until he saw Vincent… yet, if Cathy was dead and the baby missing, would Vincent even come? Was Vincent even still alive…? Was he hurt…? Only time would tell…

Elliot reached for the scotch…and then stopped. If he started drinking now, he'd never make it through til tonight…_oh, God, please don't let her be dead_…and yet if she was, how futile were his prayers? He suddenly realized that he was crying...

-

Falling, ever downwards…spiraling into the night, the cold abyss of death… down and down, no longer fearing what lies ahead …far above a single light, a single beacon. _Vincent. _Down and down and down…_Daddy? Where are you? _Surely he would be waiting in the darkness to take her home…

_I'm here – but I can't take you home _he told her. Arms around her – a father's arms.

_Oh, Daddy, I've missed you!_

_And I you – but now you must go up._

_Up – to the roof? Oh, Daddy, I had a baby, but he's lost now!_

_Everything will be all right. You'll see. You just have to have faith._

_Daddy – I love you!_

_I love you too, Cathy. Go on now, up you go – atta girl – just like when you used to climb those trees in Central Park – go up as high as you can go!_

Up – it seemed the wrong direction – up…the trees – their branches held her securely, and she knew she wouldn't fall – _I won't fall, Daddy! Look at me, see how high up I am! _Up through the darkness…dark wings in the night…angel's wings…lifting her …higher…_believe…in angels… _

_When I'm lonely  
I lay awake at night  
And I wish you were here  
I miss you  
Can you tell me-  
Is there something more to believe in  
Or is this all there is?_

_  
And the pounding feet  
In the streets below  
And a window breaks  
And a women falls  
There's something wrong  
It's hard to believe that love will prevail_

_  
It won't rain all the time  
The sky won't fall forever  
And though the night seems long  
Your tears won't fall  
Your tears won't fall  
Your tears won't fall  
forever_

Last night I had a dream  
You can into my room  
You took me  
Into your arms  
Whispering and kissing me  
And telling me to still believe…  
Jane Sibbery

-

"Vincent?" Catherine whispered – around her things seemed so familiar and yet so strange. She knew the scent of his chamber, vanilla and musk, patchouli and well oiled leather - and books! It was like the smellof a library in his chamber, it always made her smile - if there were scents in heaven, surely these were what it would be like...and shecould hear the tapping of the pipes, the constant reminder of life all around – she could even make out some of what was being said…she was found, she was alive… but how could that be? Catherine knew with all the certainty she could possibly possess that she was had died - she'd felt herself slip away - and she hadn't been afraid. She'd seen her father – he'd held her – he'd told her to climb the trees, to be fearless…_to believe…_

"Vincent?" Catherine whispered – around her things seemed so familiar and yet so strange. She knew the scent of his chamber, vanilla and musk, patchouli and well oiled leather - and books! It was like the smellof a library in his chamber, it always made her smile - if there were scents in heaven, surely these were what it would be like...and shecould hear the tapping of the pipes, the constant reminder of life all around – she could even make out some of what was being said…she was found, she was alive… but how could that be? Catherine knew with all the certainty she could possibly possess that she was had died - she'd felt herself slip away - and she hadn't been afraid. She'd seen her father – he'd held her – he'd told her to climb the trees, to be fearless… 

"You're safe," the girl's voice was strange and yet familiar, just like everything else.

Catherine opened her eyes – it _was_ his chamber – her heart leaped with wild joy – she could smell the sweet muskiness of his scent, even though she could not see him, everything else was as it should be and he – he was not far away…Catherine realized that for the first time in months, she could _feel_ him. Tears of joy…the girl's face, so young and sweet – holding such terrible darkness…black wings…Catherine remembered the black wings of an angel...carrying her out of the darkness, back to the light. Back to her beacon. _Vincent._

"My name is Kate."

"You're the angel I saw," Catherine whispered. She realized how weak she felt – her body – it had gone through so much,and through it all her spirit remained strong – it had to - it had to be strong because her body was so diminished... but she couldn't give up, they needed hertoo much– Vincent needed her...and... "My son?"

"Gabriel took him – but we'll find him," Kate told her. She touched the mind of the crow, flying high overhead, over the city Above.

_Still no sign,_ it told her. Hell, they could be half way across the country by now… or worse, over the ocean…but instinct told him he would find them near.

"Where's Vincent?" Catherine asked - she could feel him, feel the beating of his heart, the blood pulsing through his veins - he was near - yet not near enough to touch and more than anything, she needed to feel his warmth around her.

"He went Above to see someone – a man he says who helped him while he was looking for you – a man who deserves to know you're alive. He'll be back soon."

Soon. It would have to be good enough. "Thank you," Catherine smiled at her angel. She allowed sleep to overtake her - time would pass more quickly and the truth was that she was still so tired...

-

Red and gold streaked the indigo sky – the air was growing warmer, finally. Along the avenue, tulips bloomed in window boxes – the first hints that spring was finally coming to New York. People came and went, heedless of one another – most were oblivious to the changing season, other than spring meant construction and construction meant inconvenience.

However, in that world, in a small tightly knit community, word spread – Catherine had been found. Alive. Well. There was a baby missing – but Catherine was all right. And there was an extraordinary girl named Kate who had helped – who was going to keep helping them, until they found the baby…no one knew who or what Kate was – all that mattered is that Vincent had brought her down Below. He trusted her.

-

:Laura: Jerry signed, seeing her when he came in the door – she was crying. Had she heard already? How could she know – he'd only just found out himself about the blood found at the scene matching Chandler's. Even without a body, it didn't look good. He'd told his captain he needed a few hours – maybe he was breaking orders, but Laura had been friends with the woman. She deserved to know – deserved some closure. He didn't have to give her the details – hell, he wouldn't have anyway. But she deserved something…

Laura looked up and smiled – her tears had been borne of the joy of knowing that Catherine was alive and well. Tessa, another Helper, had just left – she'd brought the news. :I'm ok: Laura told him. "It's going to be all right," she spoke out loud. It was really going to be all right. Catherine was alive and well – they'd find the baby. It was really all going to be all right!

:Laura – I don't know how to tell you this – I talked to Mike – he's one of the lead investigators on this thing that happened last night – you probably haven't heard much about it, we're trying to keep the details quiet until we get it all figured out. But – Mike told me that the blood they found on the scene matches Cathy Chandler's. He said – he said the M.E. doesn't think she survived. She had a baby. It's missing too. Both are presumed dead.:

Laura shook her head. She wanted to tell him everything – but he'd never believe her and she couldn't offer him the proof he'd need. He was a cop, he was investigating what had happened – if he knew the truth he'd be torn – he'd have to tell his captain, but he couldn't. She loved Jerry too much to put him in that situation. :I know what happened. Everything is ok:

:What do you mean, 'everything is going to be ok' – she's – she's dead, Laura. I'm sorry.: He tried to make sense of Laura's reaction – she was almost manic – could it be hysteria?

Laura shook her head:No. It's not denial: she said to his incredulous stare. :Do you trust me:

:Of course I trust you.:

:Than just believe me. Everything is ok.:

Jerry looked at her for a long, long while. Her eyes – he saw the joy in her heart through them. He saw in her hopefulness – but no sorrow. He saw on her face conviction – she truly believed that everything was going to be ok, somehow. "Ok. I believe you." And looking at her - it was impossible not to believe that she was right...

-

Elliot watched the setting sun – each moment drawing him closer to the time when Vincent might come. Each moment drawing him closer to the truth. He'd seen the police report – he had his own sources. That much carnage – it was a good thing they were keeping it out of the press, at least the details. Vincent had to have been there – but – why had he wreaked such havoc? Was it because he found her dead, his child missing? Had he torn through the place in anguishand rage–what was his state of mind now - could he be dangerous? Would he come at all?

"I am here."

"Vincent," Elliot said without turning. He was afraid to ask, afraid to know – afraid not to know. Afraid even to look on Vincent's face, because surly he would see the truth in the other's eyes...

"She is alive."

Elliot felt his knees go weak – strong arms kept him from falling over, helped him to stand when he realized that his legs were still refusing to support his weight;Vincent helped him to sit."I was so afraid – Joe Maxwell called me – he's demanding to see you."

"That cannot be."

Elliot looked on the face of the other – it was still the same – that strangely beautiful face, so full of compassion. How different they were, yet bound by a single love; a thing that would have made most men rivals bound them together as the most unlikely of friends. "Vincent – I know he can't know your secret, but he deserves to know that she's alive. He's her friend - and he's been a better friend to her than I ever was."

"You sell yourself short, Elliot. And you are right, he does deserve to know. But not yet. Remember that it is Moreno who caused so much of this to happen."

"You can't believe that Joe has anything to do with it –!"

"No, of course not," Vincent assured him. "But Moreno is still a danger to her. To all of us."

Elliot nodded. "Is she all right – I mean – how is she? How is she really?"

"She was still sleeping when I left her. She was weak when I brought her – home – but she grows stronger now, with every moment."

"Vincent – I – what happened – what did you do?"

"I did very little. Gabriel has touched more than just our lives with his evil."

"What do you mean?"

"There was another. Her fury is great – but her capacity for compassion is also great. Though we started out as strangers to one another, I believe with all my heart that we are now friends. Without her, Catherine would have been lost to me – to us. She was dying. Kate saved her life."

Elliot decided he might be better off not knowing more than that. "Joe told me the baby was missing – please – " but he could see the pain in Vincent's eyes. "Do you have any idea where Gabriel might have taken your child?"

"My son," Vincent said, softly. "No, I do not know where Gabriel took him. But I will find out. And when I do – then the havoc wreaked shall be my own."

Elliot nodded – he could hear the anger in Vincent's voice – Elliot for one wouldn't deny this man his revenge. A part of him took macabre pleasure in the thought of Gabriel's broken body… "Would you tell Cathy I – I hope – I'm sorry – I – you know what I want to say, don't you?" Tears were falling again – he'd cried this afternoon in solitary grief and fear – now – Elliot didn't even know why he was crying, didn't care that another was witnessing his weakness.

Vincent held the man close for a long, comfortable moment – a moment where Elliot was truly open, holding onto him for support – unafraid of him. Unafraid of his own weakness or of showing it to another – something that a man like Elliot Burch must be very fearful of. "I will tell her what a good friend you were to me when I most needed one. I will tell her all the things about you that she already knows."

-

From a distance, Diana Bennett hadwatched Burch arrive at the construction site – she was aware that Fin Tutuola was also watching. She worked alone. Period. Even if the tip came from Joe Maxwell, she wasn't going to take his pet detective along on her watch.

As time went on, it began to look as if no one was going to show up anyway – she couldn't really see into the building, the windows were covered, but there didn't seem to be any other entrances…at length, Burch emerged. Alone. She sighed – despite Maxwell's conviction, Bennett knew it had been a long shot. Oh well, nothing ventured, nothing gained, she supposed…she was just starting to pack it up, when a car pulled up…a dark sedan - the plate was impossible to make out from where she was...the windows were tinted black...however, when the rear passanger side window rolled down, she got a very good look at who was inside...

-

Fin watched – occasionally glancing over to where Bennett was keeping her own watch. He had to admire the lady's tenacity. Hell, maybe it wasn't such a bad idea anyway, one of them might catch something that the other missed, although so far it was a pretty dull stake out. Burch came out of the building alone – so it looked like this Vincent guy was going to be a no-show.

Ablack beemer with black tinted windows pulled up to Burch just then. "Well, I'll be damned," Fin muttered. Jimmy Moreno was in the back seat.

-

"Get in Mr. Burch."

"I'd rather not, thanks," Elliot leaned over just enough to talk to Moreno. He seemed to be alone in the back, but it was impossible to see who was in front…

"I'm afraid I have to insist."

"And I'm afraid I have to decline," Elliot backed further away.

-

Vincent heard the car pulling into the construction site and stopped…listening…he could feel Elliot's heart rate jump. Apprehension…

-

Leaving Catherine to sleep, Kate ventured up towards the surface...once she cleared the main hub, Kate picked up her pace to an inhuman speed – it wasn't so much that she didn't want to be there, she just wanted to run, to feel the rush of air past her face, to feel the adrenalin kicking in. She hit the park and ran faster, welcoming the cool darkness and the nearly full moon above… the air was filled with the scents of the city. She could smell everything, cars, people, animals – through the crow's eyes, she saw buildings flowing past at great speed – lights blurred together, a kaleidoscope of colour and motion and sound… _Wait – what's that? _Kate's steps didn't falter – she'd already cleared the trees and was deep into the dark of the alleyways when she saw something through the eyes of the crow… a man…a car…a shrouded figure creeping closer…watching…waiting…weary…_Vincent._

_I know – that's why I'm watching. _The bird told her.

Up a fire escape – over rooftops – down – across – up – over – faster, faster, faster…the night flew by in a blur…

-

A man got out of the passenger side of the black BMW, a tall scary looking man with shocking white hair. "I'm afraid we have to insist," he said; he held the small gun just where Burch could see it.

"Well, I guess if you put it that way," Elliot feigned a smile and slid in next to Moreno.

"You couldn't leave well enough alone, could you, Burch?" Moreno muttered.

"Guess not."

-

Clinging to the shadows, Vincent saw Elliot forced into the car – and he saw the big black bird flap off after it. Kate. He could smell her now, feel her dark presence.

-

Only Fin saw the gun – but neither he nor Diana noticed the bird…

-

"Fancy meeting you here," Kate dropped to Vincent's side. "Catherine's awake."

"I know. The man who was forced into that care is Elliot Burch. He's a friend – the men who have him are the same men responsible for what happened to Catherine. They must know he has been helping me – helping her."

"I'll go after them – I'll do everything I can to keep your friend safe."

"We will go together – this is as much my battle as it is yours."

Kate smiled, a strange mix of wicked and kind. "I know that. But you have other things to think about now, Vincent – remember, they can't kill me, I'm already dead."

He regarded her – the notion of leaving Elliot to these men was unimaginable – but she was right, Catherine needed him now. Their son needed him. For all that she wasn't, Kate looked human, could pass amongst the citizens of New York unnoticed – and she was still as fast and as strong as he was. "All right. Be careful."

Kate laughed, an echo of the same maniacal laugh he'd heard last night, yet tinged with genuine humour. "I'll see you soon - and if I take Gabriel's head before the night is through, I'll bring it to you on a pike."

-

From her vantage point, Diana saw the cloaked figure slipping away from the site – and was torn. Moreno and Burch – or the man who had to be Vincent…? Vincent. The real answers lay there, not with Elliot Burch…

-

Fin was half way to his car when he thought he heard an inhuman laugh, carried on the wind…he looked up and caught sight of – he stopped in his tracks. It wasn't possible – but he'd recognize Kate Zito anywhere…and then, she was gone, leaving him questioning his sanity…

-

Kate leaped up through the frame of the building that was going up – up and to the fence and over and into the night…


	8. Eight

**Chapter Eight:**

"Vincent!" Catherine wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, holding him as tightly as she could."I thought I'd never see you again," she whispered. "I was so afraid – so sure I was dying – that I was leaving you with the terrible burden of finding our son alone."

"Shh," he held her close. "I was never alone – you were always with me. And we _will _find him." Her warmth filled him, her belief gave him strength – Kate was right, he needed to be here, now. He needed Catherine as much as she needed him; heneeded her warmth and her love; and if anyone could keep Elliot safe, it would be Kate.

"I know we will find him. I have faith in that, Vincent. But – you must tell me – I felt something – your fear – what's wrong, where were you?"

"I saw Elliot Burch."

"Elliot – he didn't –"

"Yes. He saw me. He knows."

"He knows," she whispered, trying to digest it, wondering what Elliot might do with the knowledge of Vincent's existence.

"I sought him out a few weeks ago – he has been a good friend to me at a time when I felt as if no one else believed I would find you alive. He never gave up hope, _never_. His strength fortified my resolve when the night seemed so dark that even I began to fear seeing you again – oh Catherine, you are so beautiful! Even when I knew I would find you, I was still so afraid. Elliot helped me to find the courage to continue looking even when I feared I had failed you."

Catherine touched his cheek, wiping away the tears that fell – felt the softness of the silken fur – she took in his smell – oh she thought she'd never see him again, never touch him, never hear the sound of his voice. What must Elliot have thought when he first saw Vincent's face and realized that this was the man she loved? How had he found the courage to look on Vincent – to realize – and to help a stranger? "How much does he know?"

"He does not know where I come from or where I go – only that I exist. That we have a child – that I love you. He loves you enough to be happy for us. He loves you enough to risk his life for us."

"Vincent, where is he?"

"I don't know – he was taken by Moreno. Kate follows. She will keep him safe."

Kate. Catherine had always imagined that a guardian angel would be some impossibly gentle, beautiful creature filled with nothing but love – now she knew better. Terribly powerful, hurt – but compassionate – yes, Kate would keep Elliot safe. "I'm glad she sent you back to me," Catherine pulled Vincent closer. "Lay with me for a while?"

Vincent eased himself down next to her – she pulled in close, holding herself to his chest – seeking out his strength and his warmth.

"Elliot will be safe – and we will find our son," he whispered, stroking her silken hair. How long it had grown in the last six months – how much more beautiful she was now, than even in his dreams or memories. How sweet her voice – how wonderful the comfort of her touch.

"I know," Catherine felt herself drifting off into sleep…

-

Fin got to his car; he could still see the beemer – slowly, he told himself. If he sped out after it, he'd only draw their attention. He wondered where Bennett was…and he wondered if he'd seen a ghost or just the specter of his own imagination…Kate Zito…

-

Diana followed the shrouded figure as far as the basement of an old apartment building; he went into the shadows and she lost the trail. Discouraged and frustrated, she started back home – then changed her course, heading for Catherine Chandler's apartment instead. She wasn't entirely surprised to find Joe Maxwell there, in the dark, just sitting in Chandler's living room staring out the window. Diana joined him without a word – without even reaching for the light switch. She took his hand - he didn't resist - she could feel his pain. There was no comfort for him - but perhaps not being alone might help, some...

-

Elliot sat in silence – there was nothing to say. He knew Moreno was guilty – and Moreno knew that he knew. They both knew that there was a very good chance that Elliot wouldn't walk away from this encounter alive – Moreno had too much at stake. Apparently, so did Gabriel.

At last the car pulled over and stopped – the man with the white hair opened the door. Elliot recognized the area, more or less – the waterfront. "Nice night for a sail," he mused softly. "Or a swim."

The white haired man smirked. "You're very perceptive, Mr. Burch."

On silent feet, Kate dropped into the shadows from the rooftop… the pier. Not a good sign. She could smell Gabriel – he was here. But the child was not. If she was going to find the baby, she couldn't kill Gabriel – at least not yet…_damn it all to hell and back!_

_Patience, _the crow said. It found a perch on the big boat Burch had been escorted into.

Kate slunk through the darkness towards the yacht. It looked like the ones she'd seen on TV, on that show about how rich people lived. Her eyes saw through the darkness – she heard the voices coming from deep inside – Gabriel! She cursed his name again. She sat and listened. Patience…

-

Fin followed the beemer to the pier – he watched Moreno and Elliot and the white haired dude get out and walk to one of the yachts. They went in…and then, out of the night, a big black bird came flying, settling on the mast – Fin recognized it. It was impossible that it could be the same crow – but his gut told him that it was, just like his gut had told him that it was the same crow every month at her grave, waiting… waiting for what, he still wondered.

Out of the shadows came a girl…Fin watched her, watching the boat – she seemed to be…listening….but that was impossible. Her presence here was impossible….but there she was, a hundred feet from him...Kate Zito.

-

Burch looked on the face of evil – the face of the man who had kidnapped and tormented Cathy for six months. He kept his expression neutral, while silently wishing for some way to disembowel the man standing less than two feet from him.

"Catherine Chandler is dead," Gabriel said, matter of factly.

Burch closed his eyes for a moment – _thank God_, at least Gabriel really believed that she was dead. He wouldn't go looking for her. "So?" he asked at last.

"She died peacefully. Can I offer you a drink? You like scotch, I'm told."

Elliot shrugged.

"I know you've been meeting with Vincent."

Elliot had a harder time keeping surprise from showing at that revelation. Still, he shrugged as if he was either disinterested or didn't know what Gabriel meant.

"Vincent? Who's Vincent?" Moreno asked from his chair, in the corner. The man with the white hair, standing next to him, put one hand on Moreno's shoulder, silencing him.

Gabriel went on, as if Moreno wasn't even there, "And I know what – more or less – Vincent is. Do you, Mr. Burch? Have you seen his face?"

"Sorry. I don't know what you're talking about," Elliot managed to affect a bored sounding tone in his voice.

Gabriel laughed, "You know, I think I like you," he poured a drink and handed it over.

Elliot took the glass from the man's hand, resisting the urge to throw it back in his face. He sipped it. "Not bad."

Gabriel laughed some more. "It should be more than 'not bad' – do you have any idea how much this scotch cost?"

"Probably – five or six hundred dollars a bottle." Elliot sipped it a little more.

"Very good – you're a very discerning man. So – what do you know about Vincent, where does he come from?"

Elliot shrugged, "You've got me. He never said."

"Well then – perhaps you can help me to arrange a meeting. I'm sure he'd like to see his son – oh did you know that?"

Elliot's expression remained impassive.

"Yes, I think you did. What do you say, would you like to be part of a little father-son reunion?"

-

Kate held her breath – Vincent trusted this man…she wondered if he'd placed his trust incorrectly…

-

Elliot gazed down into the dark amber liquid, then looked directly into Gabriel's black eyes."Sorry. You'll have to find some other go-between."

"That was the wrong answer, Mr. Burch."

Elliot raised his glass to Gabriel, "Guess I'll see you again in Hell, then." He finished it.

"Pity. I do like you, Mr. Burch. Kill him, please," he said to the white haired man; he raised his own gun to Moreno, who started sniveling. "You've become far more trouble than you're worth, I'm afraid," he said, almost as an apology.

Elliot braced himself; the white haired man raised his gun, a slight look of boredom on his whethered face. _There are worse ways to die_, Elliot mused; a bullet through the heart or brain was definately preferable to drowning...

-

Fin watched Kate slide through the darkness towards the yacht – he drew his gun and followed…

-

A dark blurdove into the room – the gun went off - Elliot was hardly aware that there was a girl standing between he and the bullet...

Katefelt the lead pierce her skin, push her back– damn, that hurt! She laughed it off, "You're gonna have to do better than that, blondie!"

Wide eyed, he shot again – her heart – and again – this time at Burch – she pushed him out of the way – heard him curse as the bullet hit…

"Freeze – police!" Fin shouted, as he ran down the steps, hearing gunfire and maniacal laughter. He saw – Kate – bleeding from the shoulder and chest – Elliot Burch wounded in the leg – Moreno shot dead…and the white haired guy going out another door.

"You know, detective, you have lousy timing," Kate looked at him – if he hadn't announced himself as a cop, she might have been able to get something from blondie before she killed him… Then she recognized him and instantly regretted her words – he'd already beaten himself up enough for her murder…a sound – click, click, click… "Um – time to go," She grabbed Burch by the arm. "Now – haul ass, both of you!"

"What – who are you?" Burch dragged himself despite the pain – he'd seen her laugh off a bullet. He'd seen the second bullet hit her square in the chest…

"I promised a mutual friend I'd keep your ass alive," she told him. "And I can't do that if you don't hurry."

Fin followed up the steps – he saw the bird take off into the darkness – it was following a small motor boat speeding down the river…

Moments later, the yacht blew up…

Kate landed on top of Burch – she heard him muffle a scream of pain as he landed on his wounded leg.

"How did you know it was going to blow?" Elliot asked, sitting up.

"I heard it."

"What the hell is going on?" Fin demanded. "Kate – Kate Zito?" He was seeing – but he couldn't make his rational mind believe. He'd been to her grave – she was dead. He knew she was dead…but here she was. There was blood on her sweater – but no wound in her shoulder – he'd seen it, a moment ago, he knew he had… there was a puddle of blood on her chest – but if she'd been shot in the chest…she'd be dead…but she was already dead…?

"You know each other?" Elliot asked, still trying to make sense of what had happened back there…

"Not exactly," Kate said, favouring Fin with a smile, "But thanks for the flowers."

"You – you're alive?"

"No. Not any more. Can you get Burch to a hospital? I have to see a bird about a man."

"If I go to the hospital, there'll be too many questions," Burch said. "I'll be fine."

"Like hell you will!" Fin looked at him – it probably wasn't serious – but it was serious enough that Burch needed a doctor. "I'll handle the questions. Kate? You really are Kate Zito?" He felt like he knew her – he'd never talked to her – but he'd read her diary – he suddenly felt ashamed of that. "I saw – what they did to you…" He'd seen her body, beaten, bloody – broken. "It's not possible. I go to your grave every month!"

"I know."

Then Fin looked into the dark recesses of her eyes…and he began to believe in what he was seeing… "What happened?"

"Gabriel happened," she told him. "And now I'm going to happen to him. Elliot, tell Vincent that I'll find a way to get word to him as soon as I find out where Gabriel is."

"He comes to me, I don't know how to get in touch with him."

She smiled, "Sure you do," and she touched his cheek, gently, pushing the images into his mind. A tunnel – a safe haven – a secret to be kept at all cost – a chamber – a bed – Catherine safe.

Elliot's heart leapt with wild joy -hearing the words was one thing - but now he saw - now he knew. _She was alive!_ She was safe and warm and well…Elliot took Kate's hand, held it tightly andwhispered, "Thank you. I'll contact him as soon as I can."

"You're welcome." She looked to Fin, "Take care of him, will you?"

"Sure."

"And Detective – thank you," Kate leaned down and kissed his cheek.

"For what?" Fin touched the place her lips had touched...so cold...

"For believing in Andy, even when it cost you so much."

His brows knit together in a questioning frown.

"A little birdie told me about your wife," She stood and headed into the shadows…

Fin opened his mouth to say something – but she was gone. He looked at Burch.

"It's ok to believe in miracles," Elliot told him.

"Yeah – I think you might be on to something. Can you stand?"

"I think so," he leaned on Fin's strength. "There's something else you should know – Catherine Chandler is alive."

If someone had told him that an hour ago, Fin might not have believed them, but now… "I'll call Maxwell as soon as we get that leg looked at."

Fin got Elliot to the emergency room, flashing his badge and claiming that the man had been shot while on police business…as soon as Elliot was safely in surgery – the bullet was lodged in muscle – he found a pay phone. Joe didn't answer at home.

He tried Diana's pager. Moments later, his own pager went off with a number… Joe answered. By the time Elliot was in recovery, Diana and Joe were in the main lobby. Fin told them almost the whole story. He didn't know quite how to say that the real hero had been a dead girl – so he just said that when he shouted 'police', Gabriel and his goons ran, leaving he and Burch to haul ass out of there – they had no idea that the boat was going to blow…it was close enough. The truth was that if Kate hadn't been there, he and Burch would probably both be dead. Fin had the feeling that she wouldn't mind not getting the credit…

"There's one more thing," Fin said to them. "Elliot says that Chandler is alive."

Diana caught Joe as he nearly fell down, and eased him to a chair. "That's impossible," she said. "I saw the coroner's report – I talked to the coroner. She's dead."

Fin shook his head – he looked Joe Maxwell straight in the eye. "Elliot told me something else, that it's ok to believe in miracles. If he says she's alive, I believe him."

"Where is she?" Joe wanted to know.

"I don't know – but – I think she's some place safe."

"You_ think_?"

"I know," Fin said, with conviction. "I know she's safe. I saw it on Elliot's face. She's alive and she's safe."

"What about the baby?"

Fin shook his head, "They're still looking for him."

"Diana – we have to find Gabriel – he's out there, he has Cathy's kid. He killed Moreno, he damn near killed Burch – and no matter where she is, Cathy won't be safe from him until he's behind bars."

Diana Bennett looked from one man to the other – believe in miracles, Chandler alive, Moreno dead…and Vincent, this mystery man who barely seemed to exist… "All right. I'll see what I can find."

"Excuse me, Detective," a nurse stepped towards them. "Your friend is in recovery now – you can see him in just a little while."

"Thanks," Fin told her. His friend. Elliot Burch – what the hell, he'd had a strange enough night to start calling a guy like Burch his friend…

-

_May it be an evening star __  
__Shines down upon you __  
__May it be when darkness falls __  
__Your heart will be true __  
__You walk a lonely road __  
__Oh, how far you are from home _

_Mornie utúlië (darkness has come) __  
__Believe and you will find your way __  
__Mornie alantië (darkness has fallen) __  
__A promise lives within you now _

_May it be shadows call __  
__Will fly away __  
__May it be your journey on __  
__To light the day __  
__When the night is overcome __  
__You may rise to find the sun _

_Mornie utúlië (darkness has come) __  
__Believe and you will find your way __  
__Mornie alantië (darkness has fallen) __  
__A promise lives within you now __  
__A promise lives within you now_

_Enya_

_-_

_Into the darkness…down and down…through the black velvet of night, Catherine's dreams lead her on the wings of a great black bird, until others stood around her. Dressed in black, faces of death – and she understood…a solitary man came forward from the crowd – he could be American Indian, she supposed, from the look of him, in his mid thirties, yet ageless. Long dark hair streaked with wisps of silver, high cheek bones and almond shaped eyes; his eyes were dark and showed a soul that had known both joy and pain – the soul of a father taken too soon from his child. The soul of a man who understood. He smiled, a kind smile. Have faith in what you believe, Catherine. _

_I have faith that Kate will help us find our son, she replied, silently; her words filled the space between them. _

_"She draws close to the man who has him," the man said aloud. "She draws closer to her own truth – will you be there to help her, as she has helped you?"_

_"Yes. We both will."_

_"You will not be alone."_

_The man held out his hand to her – Catherine took it, thinking he only wanted to shake her hand, but as they touched, the dream vision shimmered...she saw the water front - a yatch - she could even smell the rotting fish and salty water that lapped up against the hulls of the boats – she saw Kate and Elliot – gunfire – Kate put herself between Elliot and the bullets - she had taken Vincent's place in saving him from harm. She took a bullet in the shoulder and another in the heart – would even he have survived such a wound? Then there was a man Catherine didn't know, tall and dark. Kate knew him, recognized him as the man who had put flowers on her grave – he spoke to the crow every month… there was an explosion – Kate made the man take Elliot to a doctor while she pursued Gabriel…over the water – faster and faster the crow flew, black against the night sky…_

_Then, the man withdrew his hand from hers, and Catherine felt knew that it was almost time. She lifted her head to thank him for showing her – he was gone; they were all gone… only the crows remained…_

For half a frightened instant, Catherine was unsure where she was when she woke – the honey-sweet scent of the soap Vincent used – his own pleasant musk – the smell of fresh linens and old books…the tapping of the pipes – the sure, strong warmth of the body next to hers – the rise and fall of his chest. It hadn't been a dream. She was here. She was alive. She opened her eyes and smiled at the sleeping form next to her – he seemed so deeply asleep – had he slept at all in the last six months? Catherine traced the lines of his face with her finger tips – the high cheek bones, the furred ridge of his nose – his strong brow and the thick hair falling around his shoulders…he stirred slightly, but sleep held him firmly in it's grasp. Catherine smiled – she was just as glad. He must be weary to the bone.

Carefully, Catherine slipped from his side; she ached – but she'd lost too much of her life – she didn't want to spend any more time in bed. Pulling a thick shawl around her shoulders, she stole from the chamber; although it was impossible to tell time in the Tunnels, there was no one about – and only a few messages tapping back and forth on the pipes. The hour must be either late or early.

Softly, Catherine stole away from the main hub – she was uncertain where her feet were carrying her until she found herself at the park entrance. She felt Vincent stir – he was waking, finding her not there – afraid – then he could feel her, sense that she was safe, just a little restless. She had never before felt him so strongly as she did now – since Kate had brought her back from the darkness. Catherine smiled – he would follow her, she was sure.

She stepped out into the pre-dawnlight of the park– near by a jogger was pounding the pavement – birds sang. Tulips were blooming – Catherine smiled. In the east, the sky was just beginning to lighten – the day would be overcast, it seemed – perhaps it would rain. Catherine felt a stirring and wasn't particularly surprised to see Elliot approaching through the trees – he'd known where to come to find her. Kate had shown him, though Catherine didn't know how she knew that…Elliot wasn't alone – that didn't surprise her either. Sooner or later, Joe was bound to find out about her secret, the 'double life' she led – sooner or later…she'd hoped for later, but that was a lifetime ago…She waited, just outside the storm drain…

Elliot, leaning heavily on a cane to support his weight, made his way through the park through the sheer tenacity of will (and a small dose of codine). He hurt – he didn't care. He knew where to find her, he wasn't waiting. And there she stood like an angel against the gloom – waiting. He heard Joe's sharp intake of breath and realized that the other probably hadn't really believed him when he said he knew where to find her. Joe had probably thought he was crazy, leaving the hospital just a few short hours after waking up from surgery. Hell, he'd have left earlier if he could get the nurses to get the paperwork together any faster. As it was, he'd had to sign an AMA – against medical advice form. Whatever – here he was. And there she was. Alive. He was close enough to see her face…

Catherine smiled as they approached – she could feel Vincent almost there.

"Tell me I'm not dreaming," Joe stopped just short of her, afraid to believe his own eyes. There she stood – alive. Breathing. She looked a little tired – but there she was, dressed in layers of white and tawny browns, wrapped in a knitted shawl – it was like she'd stepped out of another world…maybe she had…he hadn't believed Elliot when he directed Joe to drive to the park…the park. What was in the park? But…here she was, like a dream in the morning fog.

"You're not dreaming." Catherine went to him – held him tight – he hesitated at first – then she felt his arms around her, tentative, then tight, as if afraid to let go – the shudders and the tears. She never thought she'd see the day that Joe Maxwell cried – Catherine just held him, not saying a word. She didn't want to draw attention to the fact that he was crying, even in a whisper. She hoped that her very presence would be enough to convince him that everything was all right. Only after she was certain he believed that she was real, did Catherine turn to Elliot - he hung back - giving Joe the space he needed - giving her the space he _believed_ she needed...Catherine remembered her dream – he'd been shot in the leg. He must have been in surgery only hours ago. "You shouldn't be walking around so soon," she told him.

"Probably not," he couldn't quite meet her gaze – and was surprised when he felt her hand on his – her fingers twining around his.

"Thank you."

"For what?" Elliot asked, feeling ashamed – he had done so little. He'd betrayed a trust that wasn't even his to betray – but there was no stopping Joe from coming now – and he deserved to see her. He deserved it more than Elliot felt he himself did.

Catherine squeezed his hand tighter. "You've been a wonderful friend."

"I didn't do anything – not really."

"You keep selling yourself short, Elliot," said a soft voice from the shadows of the storm drain; he stepped out, just enough – it was time. Inside, he knew it was time – not for the whole world to see – that time would never be. But it was time for the other man in Catherine's life to see – to know. To understand…

Joe took three steps back, unable to form a single coherent thought. He could only see a little of it through the shadows of the hood he wore…but that face…it seemed so …inhuman…golden…fur? Or was it some trick of the sunlight…?

"Come – it is nearly day. And you both should be resting," Vincent gave both Catherine and Elliot reproachful looks, before slipping back into the shadows of the storm drain.

"We can't," Elliot protested. He wanted to – more than almost anything, he wanted to see where Vincent came from – but he wasn't worthy of the privilege. Maybe he shouldn't be speaking for Joe – but Maxwell was such a pragmatist – how would he cope with the knowledge of what must lie within the shadows…?

Catherine drew both he and Joe by the hand, silently pulling them into the tunnel…

"Catherine?" Elliot asked her.

"I'm sure," she said softly. "Joe – are you all right?"

"Not really."

She chuckled softly. "That's all right. Elliot, there's a lever just behind you – yes, thank you," she said, as the door slid shut.

Joe looked at it – a secret entrance into…what? Walls – sandy ground – and a tunnel that led – under the park? Under the city? How far? Too many questions…too many possibilities…and the door behind them was shut…now what? He looked to the tall creature again – it looked strong…its hands were clawed…they looked sharp…

Once safely behind the secret door, Vincent drew back his hood, so that his face was clearly visible in the soft golden light of the tunnels.

Joe opened his mouth. Nothing came out. He shut it, the opened it, trying again to say – what? He didn't know. It was as if his brain wasn't working properly. Bits of memory surfaced – Cathy's ability to walk away from the occasional brush with disaster – her vanishing off the map just before she came to work for him – hadn't she said she'd been attacked…reports of people dying, slashed or mauled to death…especially recently…the rash of violent deaths that had culminated in the scene found two nights ago… The red and white rose bush Diana Bennett found in Cathy's apartment…those books on Cathy's shelves, lovingly signed with Vincent's name, clearly gifts from the man…yet not a single photograph of the mystery guy…the world seemed to have tilted strangely on it's axis and Joe didn't quite know how to make it tilt back again – he felt like Alice suddenly down a very unfriendly rabbit hole… How could something like this live here – and yet no one knew about it? Joe looked at its cloths: a long black leather cloak with bits fringe here and there, a thickly padded grey vest over a couple of layers of shirts – they looked like something out of another time…so did the tall leather boots and grey pants…where did this thing come from? More importantly, Joe wondered if there were more at home like it…

"This is Vincent," Catherine said simply.

"Vincent." Joe repeated. Vincent.

"Joe Maxwell," Vincent said softly.

"You know who I am?"

"How could I not know the name of one of Catherine's dearest friends?"

"Oh." Slowly, his thoughts began to gel. Vincent. The boyfriend. Joe looked at the face for a good long while – the hair – the hands – the cloths… _He has a heart like yours_, she had said; maybe, but it was a face that only a mother could love…and what had produced this – Vincent? What sort of offspring had this Vincent produced…how…he looked to Catherine, searching for some answer that wouldn't make his brain hurt.

"Joe?" Catherine asked.

"I'm just – digesting this, Radcliff. It's been a hell of a couple of weeks." Hell, it had been a hell of a year…he looked over at Burch, hoping for a little moral support here – but the man seemed totally unfazed by what was standing before them.

"Vincent," Elliot said softly, "Kate took off after Gabriel – she said she'd find a way to contact you as soon as she could."

"Kate?" Joe wanted to know – Burch hadn't mentioned any 'Kate' before now…

"Thank you," Vincent replied to Elliot. "I am sorry I did not follow. If she was not there, I would have." As it was, guilt still racked his heart – he had left Elliot and Elliot had been shot…

"No – I'm glad you didn't. Cathy needs you," he have her a shy glance. "Your son needs you."

"Who's Kate?" Joe asked again.

"Kate is a friend," Catherine told him patiently. "And this man, Gabriel – he took my son. Our son," she took Vincent's hand, taking no small comfort in its warmth. They'd find their son – but in the meantime, they had each other. After six long, terrifying months – they had each other, she could touch him – smell him – feel his warmth. She was once again filled with the quiet joy of the bond they shared.

"So – you really did – you and him – a kid?" Joe looked from one to the other – and over at Burch – and then back again. (Burch was offering no help whatsoever…) "The coroner said you were _dead_, Radcliff – the blood they found was full of morphine, enough to kill you twice over! Do you know what that felt like?"

"I can only imagine," she told him.

"I thought I'd never see you again – I've been trying to piece together what happened so I could at least kill the son of a bitch who killed you – then Burch says you're alive – I'll tell you the truth, I didn't believe him."

"If it hadn't been for Kate, I would be dead, Joe. She saved my life."

Joe frowned, shook his head – next thing he'd be playing some silly game with mallets with the Queen of Hearts… "They found amniotic fluid – I didn't believe it, even after someone talked to the nurse who told you. You said it was _the flu_." Joe realized just how angry at her he was – he'd thought she had the flu – he'd thought she was dead…she'd had a baby. She was alive. He was happy – but part of him was furious at her for putting him through the last twenty-four hours of hell!

"I thought it was the flu. I truly did – when I gave blood, the nurse told me. I was working out how I was going to tell you – I hadn't even told Vincent yet."

"You hadn't?" Joe asked, startled. Hadn't even told him yet? Well – ok – so maybe he could forgive her, if she hadn't even told the father yet…father…her and him? The thought continued to boggle his mind…

"I hadn't found the words yet. Joe, I wouldn't have kept you in the dark forever – I just didn't know how to say it. I'd barely had the chance to get used to the idea when Gabriel's men took me."

"What – what happened?" He wasn't sure he wanted to know – but he had to know.

"They took me. They held me. They had doctors taking care of me. After I gave birth, Gabriel told the doctor to kill me and he injected enough morphine to do it. A painless death he said," her voice was heavy with bitterness. "Only a bastard like that could think a mother dying without even holding her son in her arms is dying a painless death."

"Oh god," Joe wished that Vincent had gotten his hands of this Gabriel, too…because looking at those hands he had to assume that Vincent was the one who had torn through that building…

"Vincent came for me," Catherine went on. "He'd found me but he was too late to stop Gabriel – but he brought me – home." Home – she hoped that Vincent and Father and all the rest realized that she was never leaving here again.

"You live – here?" Joe looked to Vincent.

"Yes."

"How? Where?"

"Joe," Elliot looked to him. "It doesn't really matter, does it?" He already felt as if he knew more than he deserved to, though he was grateful for the trust. He of all people had done nothing to earn it. "What's important is that Cathy is all right."

Joe shook his head – Burch had a point, it really didn't matter. Not right now anyway. Later he'd want answers, but for now – he gave Vincent a long appraising look. "You're Vincent. The same Vincent she's been – dating." The word seemed absurd. How did you date a guy who lived in a sewer under Central Park? How did someone like Cathy Chandler date a guy who lived in a sewer under Central Park! "And you're responsible for what happened in that two nights ago?" He looked from the man-beast to Catherine.

"Joe," Elliot said again, "It doesn't matter."

"Like hell it doesn't!"

"Joe," Catherine put her hand on his shoulder. "You're right – it does matter. But there are things going on that are beyond most people's ability to reconcile with their ideas of reality." She remembered Kristopher, the artist who had painted their portrait…the artist who was supposed to have been dead…were it not for that encounter, she wondered how easily her mind might reject the things that she knew now. Even now, there were still things that were hard to reconcile – but she knew she'd been dying and that Kate had brought her back, somehow. She knew that Kate was no ordinary human being. And to an extent, Elliot was right – the details didn't matter, not right now. All that really mattered was finding their son.

Joe looked up at Vincent again. "I guess this at least explains why you didn't come forward when she vanished. Just – tell me if you're behind what happened in that building where she was being held – it's not like I wouldn't have liked to have ripped those guys apart myself."

"It was not me."

Joe paled – had Vincent been the one behind that much carnage, he would have felt – almost ok about it. He didn't believe in vigilante justice – but maybe, sometimes, in the dark of night he wished that some of the bad guys would really end up dead in an alley somewhere… And he could understand that if this guy really loved Cathy he might put those claws to use and tear through the guys who had hurt her – he knew he'd've done it, if he could.

"Gabriel has hurt many people," Vincent explained.

"I don't understand." _Kate?_ Joe wondered. They said she'd gone after Gabriel – and that she was a friend. What had really happened last night? Burch told him that Moreno took him to Gabriel and that Moreno was dead. There was an explosion – but Burch had neglected to fill in any of the details and even Fin wasn't talking. How had they survived – Kate again?

Even Elliot, having seen Kate in action didn't understand. He'd been sure that he was a dead man – he wasn't expecting any rescue. He hadprayed that Vincentwouldn't follow – that he was safe with Catherine, where he belonged. Elliot would take his own chances – he'd meant it when he told Gabriel that they'd meet again in Hell. Then – he saw this girl take the bullet meant for him – he'd been horrified. She was just a child – until she stood back up and laughed…"She saved my life too," he told Maxwell. "Last night. Gabriel would have killed me if she hadn't been there."

Joe frowned. "So what – she's like him?"

"No," said Catherine, "She's not like Vincent. To look at her you might never know that she was something apart from the rest of the world."

"Apart? Apart how? No wait, let me guess, it doesn't matter," Joe looked to Burch before the man could even speak.

Catherine smiled. "I know it's a lot all at once. I never meant for you to find out like this."

"You never meant for me to find out at all," he said, realizing as he said the words how much they stung. Vincent had gone to Elliot Burch, not him. He'd been her friend for three years – Burch was some slime ball…no, he realized, Burch wasn't a slime ball. Maybe he had been – but he'd gone out on a limb for Cathy – no doubt for Vincent, too. It still hurt that they had gone to Burch and not him…

"Joe – I keep the secrets that I keep not just for myself and Vincent, but for others as well," she told him. "It was never my place to tell you or anyone else."

"So what now?" Joe looked from her to Vincent, to Burch, feeling like an outsider.

"Moreno is dead," Elliot said to Catherine. "Gabriel had him killed – not that I think anyone will ever be able to prove it," he told her about the explosion, how Kate hauled him out of the boat – if not for her, he was sure he'd be dead. Neither he nor Fin had been aware of the bomb – Kate had heard it somehow.

Catherine realized that she already knew that, too – she'd seen it – seen so much…through the eyes of a crow… "Joe – I'm sorry, I knowJim was your friend," she took his hands into hers, offering comfort. She was surprised by the coldness in his eyes.

"No. Maybe once – but he hurt you. He almost killed you – even if it wasn't with his own hands – he would have been just as guilty if you'd died. This Gabriel took you – held you – almost killed you. I could never forgive Moreno for that."Joe looked at her – would she want everyone to keep on believing that she was dead, so she could just slip away and begin some new life, under the city with this Vincent? "Everyone still thinks you're dead."

"I know. For now it has to stay that way," Catherine told him. "Not forever. Just for now. Just until we find our son."

"I don't get it – why – why did he keep the kid?" Joe looked from mother to father – he didn't want to really think about how – he knew the basics of the birds and bees…but….

"He only kept me alive because of the child," she told him. "He saw Vincent – he understood."

Joe blinked. The idea of a madman out there, knowing about Vincent was a whole lot scarier than Vincent just existing. "The baby – is – like him?"

"He's beautiful," Catherine said simply.

Joe blinked. He took a couple of seconds to digest that. "Ok, so we gotta find this guy, Gabriel. Now."

"Kate is looking," Vincent said. "She will find him – when she does, we will know."

"Look, it's not like I mind the idea of this getting what he deserves, but I can't – vigilantism isn't the answer. It's never the answer." As much as Joe might like it to be – Moreno's killer had to come to justice. He'd find a way to do it – it wouldn't be easy, but he'd had tougher cases.

"No, it isn't," Catherine agreed. "But we can't control everything that happenings."

"This other person, the one who massacred those men the other night? Kate?"

"Her fury runs deep," Vincent said. "It is not likely to be easily sated."

"Just – make me happy and tell me that this 'fury' is only directed towards Gabriel and his thugs."

Both Catherine and Vincent nodded.

"Ok. That's something. For the record, I'm going to pretend that this conversation never happened. I'm going to start looking for Gabriel on an anonymous tip that he killed Moreno. If I find him first, he goes to jail. If someone else finds him first – well, like Radcliff says, we can't control everything that happens." Joe realized that his head hurt. Maybe it was the beer he'd been drinking last night. Maybe it was no sleep. Maybe it was lack of caffeine. Or maybe it was too much information. "The only other people who know you're alive already said we shouldn't say anything – and they already know about Moreno being dead." He told her.

"Who are they?"

"A cop who's pretty straight up – and the lady I convinced to look into your disappearance. I'm not sure she's convinced that you're still alive either. Cathy – are you – you said it was just for now – but you're not planning on 'staying dead' forever, are you?"

"I don't know," she told him, honestly. It would be easier, in a lot of ways. But could she really do that to her friends. "I need time," she told both he and Vincent – the latter she was sure would give her an earful on the subject.

Joe just nodded. "Ok. I guess I can give you that – you've been through hell and I'm just glad you're ok. Damn – I really missed you."

She smiled, took his hand, and pulled him in to kiss his cheek. "I knew you wouldn't give up on me, Joe."

He held her for a long moment – she was real. She was alive. For right this very moment, everything was ok. "I'm going to go home, grab a shower and then try to get some work done."

"You should sleep."

"I should. But I'm not gonna. Vincent's right, though – _you_ should be resting," he told her – he leveled a dark look at Burch, "You too."

"I'll be fine," Elliot assured him, though the painkillers had long sense worn off, leaving him having a hard time standing up; Elliot found that he was leaning more and more on the cane for support.

"We will make sure he rests," Vincent said to Joe.

Elliot blinked in surprise...his plan had been to hobble home and fall into bed...

"Good. How do I get in touch with you guys?" asked Joe.

"I'll show you how to work the drain storm entrance," Catherine offered. "After you come in, you go straight down this tunnel, veering left."

"And I will see that the sentries know that you may come that way. Someone will meet you before you have the chance to get lost."

"Sentries – get lost?"

"There are many twists and turns – many false paths," Vincent told him. "And tunnels that end in dead nothing but walls. A person could be lost down here for a very long time if they do not know their way."

"And – people _live_ down here?"

"Many wonderful people," Catherine told him…although she could think of one who was going to be very irate when they returned with Elliot Burch.

-

_And now my charms are all o'erthrown  
And what strength I have's mine own  
Which is most faint: now t'is true  
I must here be released by you  
But release me from my bands  
With the help of your good hands  
Gentle breath of yours my sails  
Must fill, or else my project fails,  
Which was to please. Now I want  
Spirits to enforce, art to enchant  
And my ending is despair,  
Unless I be relieved by prayer  
Which pierces so that it assaults  
Mercy itself and frees all faults  
As you from your crimes would pardon'd be  
Let your indulgence set me free_

_by William Shakespeare/set to music by Loreena McKenitt_


	9. Nine

**Chapter Nine:**

"Why don't you just invite the entire city of New York down Below – you could charge admission for guided tours!" Jacob was red faced, teetering on the edge of rage as he stood before his son. Vincent had left Catherine in their chamber – their? – Jacob decided he'd think about _that_ later – with the stranger. Elliot Burch. Of all the irresponsible – before Vincent – or Devin who had decided to join them, uninvited – could open their mouths to say a word, Jacob went on. "Bringing Kate down here was one thing, Vincent – she's – different." To say the least! "I don't like it – I'm not convinced she isn't a danger to everyone here – but at least it's unlikely that she would tell anyone of our existence –"

"She has no one to tell, Father," Vincent offered tentatively.

"Nonetheless – we know nothing about her."

"We know enough."

"And we know enough about Elliot Burch to know that he is the _last_ person you should have brought down here! _What were you thinking?"_

Devin winced – even though the old man's rage was aimed elsewhere, he felt it – and it was usually _him_ getting the strip torn from his hide. "Look, Father, what's done is done," Devin offered. "There's no use getting upset about it now."

Jacob just glared at his son. Of course, Devin was right. What was done, was done. "That isn't the point," he said, defiant even in the face of logic. "The point is that it was reckless – reckless and ill-advised. We are all in danger now, of exposure, because of this man. He could destroy everything we have worked so hard to build!"

"Elliot poses no threat, Father" Vincent said calmly. "He has already proven himself worthy of our trust, to me."

"What – you mean that you exposed yourself to this man? _This_ man?"

"Yes, Father. He put his own lifeat riskhelping Catherine and I."

Jacob glared. "That still doesn't give you the right to decide for everyone, Vincent. Endangering yourself is reckless enough – but you have no right to put the rest of the community in jeopardy with your capriciousness!"

"Elliot is not the man you think he is. He will not reveal our secrets. In his heart, he is truly a good man – one worthy of the secrets we share."

"For the sake of the entire community, I hope that you have judged his character correctly," Jacob said, though he didn't think for a moment that Vincent had. He'd acted with reckless abandon – he'd beenimpulsive before – but _this _man? This king amongst men – this man who had nearly destroyed their entire way of life with his towers and his building? This man who had tried to force a marriage on Catherine – this was a man who was now to be welcomed with open arms? Oh, Jacob knew that many of the others would welcome him – they were fearless with their generosity – that of course, was the very thing that had driven most of them down here, to a place where they could trust and be open with one another. A place where fear was not a part of day to day life…yet this one man could so easily unravel it all…Jacob prayed that Vincent was right to trust him, even if in his heart he feared that his son had just condemned them all. "Devin is right – what is done cannot be undone. You must impress upon him how vital his silence is, Vincent. He must understand what harm he could do – and perhaps – well, let us all just _hope_ that he as worthy of our trust as you say he is."

-

"I'd say that went well," Devin whispered as they departed.

Vincent laughed, softly so that Father would not hear.

"My hearing is still quite adequate, thank you," Jacob informed the boys.

"Father?" Vincent asked – he was just behind them, carrying his medical bag.

Jacob shrugged, "You tell me this 'friend' of yours was shot last night, then he left the hospital and has walked all the way here. His leg should be looked at. It is no more than any respectable doctor would do."

-

"You should be resting, not taking care of me," Elliot protested as Cathy settled him into a chair and found a blanket for him.

"I'm fine – a little tired, and a little sore, but fine," Catherine tucked the blanket around him and put a fluffy down pillow on the footstool for his leg. "There now – here," she helped him lift it up, hiding how much it hurt her to do so. She was more than a little sore – the walk had exhausted her – but it was easier to fuss over someone else than to worry about her son.

"Hello, may I come in?"

"Hello, Mary, yes, please – here let me take that for you," Catherine reached for the tea tray.

"Nonsense. You should be in bed." Mary turned so that Catherine couldn't get hold of the tray.

"I keep telling her that!" Elliot tried to rally support for his argument.

"And you, young man – the story I heard was that you were shot and walked half way across the park – and then all the way down here," she gave him a dark, motherly, glare, setting the silver tray down on the bed table. "I made tea for you both – and you," she fixed her gaze on Catherine, "Are to stay in bed for the rest of the day."

"I've spent the last six months in a bed –"

"Well then another few days won't hurt. Come on – let's have that stole," she pulled it gently from Catherine's shoulders. "Now into bed and cover up. No – I'll pour the tea, you just get into that bed."

"Sage advice," Jacob said as he came into their chamber, just ahead of Devin and Vincent. "Now, Mr. Burch, let's have a look at that leg," he said, not quite looking at thesource of his vexation.

"This is my father," Vincent explained, "And my brother, Devin Wells."

"Nice to meet you," Devin held out his hand.

"Likewise," Elliot it accepted, gratefully. He could see shades of the older man in the younger – so Devin must be the old man's son, biologically, although at the moment they seemed as night and day. Devin's grip was firm and his handshake was honest – he met Elliot's gaze squarely – unlike the father who was clearly unhappy with his presence. The lady – Mary – seemed more worried about the state of his health – and thankfully, the state of Cathy's – to seem to care that he was a stranger.

"Father," Mary said, "Catherine and Elliot are not the only ones who should be resting. After you tend Elliot's leg, you should get some sleeptoo – I noticed that you hardly ate any dinner and haven't had breakfast yet."

Jacob bristled, but said nothing.

_Father?_ Elliot wondered? Perhaps everyone called him that – but even a woman his own age? Still – this place seemed to operate under its own set of rules – rules he was sure that Vincent and Catherine had broken in brining him here.

"You don't seem to have done any real damage to the wound," Jacob said after unwrapping it. Carefully, he cleaned where it had begun weeping. "But you should stay off that leg as much as possible. In that regard, I suppose you're going to be with us for a while – unless you feel you are pressed to leave –?"

Elliot couldn't figure out if 'Father' was trying to push him into going – or inviting him to stay.

"Surly nothing could be more pressing than recovering properly," Mary said gently. "Unless you have family that would be worried about you?"

"I – have no one," Elliot confided. The old man's glower wasn't lost on him. So – Father would have preferred it if he'd said he had to go. Well, he couldn't really blame the old guy – he was a stranger and this was obviously a tightly knit community. A stranger could mean all sorts of trouble…

"Well then we'll see about finding you a place to stay," Jacob said – he wasn't pleased, but there was little to be done about it. Perhaps it was for the best – if Elliot Burch stayed a while,hemight see how important his silence really was.

"Elliot is welcome to remain in my – our – chamber," Vincent glanced lovingly down at Catherine.

"I don't want to impose – on any of you."

"Nonsense," Vincent told him.

Jacob just nodded and went about bandaging the wound in a fresh dressing. The doctors who had attended him in the hospital had done a first rate job – other than being aggravated by overuse so soon after surgery, it didn't look as if the wound was going to cause any real trouble. "You're going to be sore for a while. I'm afraid we don't have much in the way of prescription pain killers available here, but we have a friend who is a doctor, Above – I'll contact him and see what he can send down for you."

"I'll be fine, really – I think rest is all I need," Elliot said.

Jacob scrutinized him, suspiciously. In his experience men like Elliot Burch weren't so good at 'toughing out' the pain – not when strong prescription drugs were just a phone call away. What was he trying to prove? That he was as strong as they were?

"And I put a healthy dose of willow bark in that tea," Mary said. "That should help some. It also has echinacea to help fight off infection, valerian, St. John's wort and chamomile, to help you sleep."

"Get some rest then, both of you," Jacob's expression was softer when he looked at Catherine. Their chamber – he wondered what exactly that would mean for the future…

"Come on," Mary guided Father out by the arm, "They're not the only ones who need to rest now."

"I'm going to head out too," Devin leaned down and kissed Catherine's cheek. "I'll check back on you guys in a few hours."

"Thank you," Catherine caught him for a proper hug.

Devin hugged his brother and gave Elliot a parting handshake befpre slipping out into the Tunnels.

Elliot looked around the chamber – the bookcases, which seemed to sit against every wall, were crammed with old volumes – statuary dotted the place here and there, illuminated by candles – and that stained glass window behind the bed – it was like a scene out of a faerie tale. "What's that tapping? I've been hearing it ever since we got down here."

"People talking to one another," Vincent explained.

"What, like Morse code?"

"Exactly," Catherine told him.

"But – that would mean that everyone can hear everyone else's conversations."

"We have no need for secrets here, Elliot," said Vincent.

"If someone had told me that a place like this could exist, I wouldn't have believed them."

"Neither would I, until I saw it," Catherine reached out for his hand.

Surprised, Elliot caught it - when her gaze met his, he saw - affection. It was the kind of affection he'd once dreamed she would show him - but that he now saw for what it was. Friendship...and Elliot realized that for all that he had, he had nothing. He had no friends, no family - no place for his heart to call home...

Vincent rose fromCatherine's side and picked up a book from his desk. "Devin brought this back from California – it is an English language translation of Tenctonese folk lore. There is a story in here that I think you both will like very much..." he flipped to the page where he'd left off and began reading...it was a story about a man coming home...

-

Joe, showered, shaved, and thoroughly caffeinated, looked up to the sound of a light rapping on his office door. Through the textured glass he saw red hair and a brown coat – must be Diana with some information. Good, he really hoped that they got to Gabriel before this Kate – or Vincent. He wanted to see the man brought to justice. So far, all anyone knew was that he'd received an anonymous tip that Moreno was dead – there was no confirmation, although the police had already been out to the marina. Yes, there had been an explosion – in fact, it had been called in shortly after it occurred. However, there was no evidence that anyone had died in the blast – but, as Warner had told him, herself – it was hard to sift much of anything out of the remains of the boat that had gone up. As of yet, they didn't even know who the boat had been registered to… "Come in," he called, and was surprised when someone other than Diana Bennett walking through his door. She was older than Diana, and just a little shorter; her hair was shoulder length, not long, although it was almost the exact same shade of red; she wore a brown coat – and under it a conservative suit, the type Radcliff always wore. "Can I help you?"

"Good morning, Mr. Maxwell – I'm Nora Lewin," she held out her hand.

Joe stood and accepted – her grip was firm for a woman's. Her voice was – sweet. That was the only way Joe could describe the soft-spoken woman's tone. Sweet. "Good morning," he said. "How can I help you?"

"The mayor's office asked me to come in and lend a hand. I've been working with the organized crime task force."

Joe blinked, and hoped that the shock he was feeling didn't show. This little mouse, with the organized crime task force? "You a cop?"

She chuckled – it was very – sweet – sounding. "No. I teach legal ethics at Harvard. I got involved with the O.C.B. initially as an advisor to the mayor's office."

"The mayor's office, or the mayor?"

She smiled.

"Well – we're always happy to work with the mayor's office," Joe couldn't think of what else to say.

"I know this must be a difficult time for you, Mr. Maxwell."

"Please – just Joe." He gestured for her to sit – remembering etiquette 101, Joe waited until she had sat down before resuming his own seat.

"Joe," she nodded. "But as difficult as it is – this man called Gabriel has got to be stopped. I don't mind telling you that there has been a great deal of unrest in the mayor's office over this matter. There is a special concern about Mr. Moreno's possible connection to Gabriel."

"Yeah. I know."

"I'm sorry – I know that having your office come under scrutiny is hard. I'm sure that if we work together we can weed out all the 'bad seeds'. Your ethics aren't being questioned by anyone, Joe."

"Sure they are – otherwise, they wouldn't have sent you in. It's ok," he lied.

"No, it's not ok. Let me put it this way, then – after looking at your record – and doing my own investigation, _I _don't question your ethics. If I did, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Joe suddenly got the impression that under the marshmallow there just might be a barracuda hiding.

Nora smiled. Sweetly.

-

"I don't get it, what's here?" Diana queried. She worked alone. But there was something about Fin's company that she found comfortable. Even if it meant detouring through one of the rougher neighbourhoods to visit a ramshackle cemetery.

"Not what, who," Fin told her. Who. Who? He'd seen her. Talked to her – watched her. He still couldn't quite believe that it was her.

"This is hardly the time to go visiting dead relatives."

"Sheain't arelative."

"And Chandler?"

"We'll know if they find her kid."

"You really believe that story Burch told us?"

"Don't see any reason not to."

"I – what the hell?" Diana gazed at the open grave. Stepping closer – and nearly falling in (Fin hauled her to safety as her footing gave way on the soft earth) – she saw the coffin, open, at the bottom. "Vandalism," Diana shook her head – even so, she realized that the coffin lid had been pushed open…she frowned. Fin wasn't even looking at the grave…but at the flowers. Twelve roses – most faded and crumbled – one was fresh.

-

_Angels, answer me,  
are you near if rain should fall?  
Am I to believe  
you will rise to calm the storm?  
For so great a treasure words will never do.  
Surely, if this is, promises are mine to give you.  
mine to give...  
Here, all too soon the day!  
Wish the moon to fall and alter tomorrow.  
I should know  
heaven has her way  
- each one given memories to own.  
Angels, all could be  
should you move both earth and sea  
Angels, I could feel  
all those dark clouds disappearing...  
Even, as I breathe  
comes an angel to their keep.  
Surely, if this is  
promises are mine to give you.  
mine to give..._

_Enya_

_-_

_Thanks for the flowers_, she knew – somehow, she knew…he looked up into the tree. No birds. A little bird had told her about his wife leaving him…that little bird had found what he was waiting for. Kate Zito.

"You ok?"

"Sometimes seeing is believing, that's all," Fin muttered, looking at Andy's undisturbed grave.

"Seeing is believing _what_, precisely?"

"That there are more things moving on heaven and earth than we mere mortals realize."

"That's the strangest bastardization of the Bard I've ever heard."

Fin shrugged, "Shakespeare wasn't real popular in Harlem."

"You really are a local boy."

He laughed, "Yeah, you could say that. Come on."

"Where to now?"

"When was the last time you ate?"

Diana regarded the tall dark skinned man as if he had a hole in his head.

"That's what I thought."


	10. Ten

**Chapter Ten:**

Through the eyes of the big black bird, Kate followed the boat to Staten Island. It docked in a private marina – or at least that's what she took the high barb wire fences to imply. From there a car took the men to a fortress like estate, nestled well into a state nature preserve. No neighbours – no people at all for miles around – it was perfect. "And perfectly impossible to get to," Kate muttered.

_Not quite perfectly impossible. There's a road onto the island._

_Yeah, but no way Vincent can get here._

_Not easily, no._

_I don't suppose you see a baby anywhere?_

_Can't see through the windows – but I'd lay odds that this is where Gabriel has him – it's the perfect place to raise a child as extraordinary as this. You do realize that you can't do this alone, don't you?_

_Even I'm not that stuborn. Too bad you can't be in two places at once – I'd really like to know where that detective is._

_Think about it, Monkey-girl. Even without me, you still have instincts – and sharper than mortal senses. Unless you want me to haul tail _all the way_ back… _he lamented.

_Oh quite moaning. You stay put and rest your precious tail feathers, _and_ watch to see if Gabriel or that other guy goes anywhere._

_-_

Diana sat back and looked thoughtfully at the man opposite her; her assessment of him kept changing. When he'd invited her to his place for breakfast she'd been uneasy – then they hit the corner grocery and watched him shop – especially the way he lingered over a couple of items and then passed them by, like they were someone else's favourites, but that someone else wasn't who he was shopping for… then they got here… while he cooked, she'd started cleaning the living room. Although it wasn't Diana's usual habit to clean other people's houses – the place stank of moldy pizza and old sweat socks. She opened several windows while she was at it. By the time breakfast was ready, she had four full garbage bags;most of it wasdisposable plates and pizza boxes...although, it seemed as if his recent dietary habits weren't a commentary on his cooking skills;for breakfast, Fin made perfectwestern omelets, with homemade hash brown potatoes.

"You cooked, I'll do dishes," she offered; she was on what her mother would call a cleaning binge.

"Hope you realize I don't have a dishwasher."

"What you need is a maid."

Fin looked around his apartment and realized she was right. "When my wife left – I guess I just stopped caring."

Diana gathered their plates up from the table. She'd already guessed by the state of his apartment thathis personal life wasin shambles – there were pictures of the wife and a child – and it wasn't that she had faith in the entire female gender to be skilled in the art domestic, however, the average household with small children subsisted on more than pizza. There had also been a distinct lack of children's toys in the living room – and in Diana's experience, any home with small children was a venerable obstacle course of toys. "You should never stop caring about yourself."

"That's easier said than done."

"You won't get her back by turning your home into a pig sty."

"I won't get her back by keeping it clean either," Fin joined her in the kitchen and rolled up his sleeves. "I'll dry."

"I have a better idea. Here," Diana handed him a sponge and cleaner she found under the sink. "Stove, then counters," she explained to his perplexed look. "Why'd she leave?"

"Work. Mine. Early days, long nights – I carry a lot of it home with me."

"That grave we visited earlier?"

"Kate Zito – and her brother Andy. I let them get to me – it ate me up. Andy got framed for killing Kate – I never believed he did it. He was killed in jail before the trial even started. He just clammed up – wouldn't talk to me. It got to me. They got to me." And now Kate was back. Somehow. "This wasn't the first time a case got the better of me. Spending weeks – sometimes months – under cover probably didn't help my marriage none, either."

"It's tough on a relationship," Diana agreed. How often did she blow off Mark because she was working? "I'm surprised my boyfriend hasn't dumped me a hundred times over. Maybe that's why I stay with him."

Fin gave her an askance look, then began scrubbing the stove. It had been bad long before Marge left – she was neat, but didn't always do the little things. As a result, months of grease and grime would build up on the stove before it was finally attended to. He'd never cared – his mother had plenty to say about it, but he'd never let little things get to him… "That the only reason you stay with this guy, cuz he doesn't dump you?"

"There's more to it than that."

"You love him?"

"Idon'tknow."

"I don't know equals no."

"I guess I don't always _think_ I'm in love with him, but that doesn't mean that I'm not– besides, who else would put up with me? You bring your work home – my home is where I do a lot of my work – there's no separation, really. Not many men would put up with that."

"Who are you justifying it to, yourself or me?"

"I'm not justifying anything," Diana felt suddenly defensive.

"Sure you are."

"So what if I am?"

"You shouldn't stay with someone if you don't love them. That's not fair to either of you."

"That's what my mother keeps saying."

"Sometimes mothers are right, you know."

Diana laughed, "Yeah, I know.But the truth is that I'm terrified to be alone. We don't even live together – but I know he's always there, Mr. Dependable. Part of me needs that."

"You don't seem like the typeo' lady who needs anyone."

"You'd be surprised," Diana said softly. She thought again about Vincent. What kind of man stays hidden away, even when he knows that his girlfriend is in danger – what kind of man gives her gifts of poetry and exotic roses – and where was he now? Burch had seen him – reluctantly take Joe to meet him – so what now? As she scrubbed out the pan Fin had used to make hash browns, Diana tried to put the pieces together – but they just wouldn't' quite form a picture in her mind. Holes – there were holes in Catherine Chandler's life. No photos of her man…she had pictures of she and Mark, Fin had pictures of his wife, even though she'd just left him… she had photos of ex boyfriends tucked away in shoe boxes... "Hey – do you keep pictures of ex girlfriends?"

"What?"

"Just – humour me."

"Yeah, sure, I've got some pictures of old girlfriends in an old cigar box. What does that have to do with anything?"

"I'm just thinking."

"About Chandler. Yeah, I noticed that too. No pictures in her apartment, I mean – at least none of this mystery guy. You think maybe it's a chick?"

Diana shot him a look.

"Well, it certainly is a possibility."

"And this baby that Elliot mentioned?"

"Hey, all kinds of ways to get pregnant these days."

"Yeah, except it sounded like the pregnancy was a surprise. You don't get surprised by a pregnancy if you go to some fertility clinic or get a guy friend to 'lend a hand.' No – I'm pretty sure Vincent is a guy."

"I'm just sayin' that anything's possible."

"I agree – anything's possible – and I haven't got anything against lesbians. I just don't think that Catherine Chandler is one. Although I have to admit that I asked a couple of her friends that question, when I first started looking for her."

"Ha, so you admit it crossed your mind."

"Of course it crossed my mind."

"So, what, because she had copies of _Victoria_ instead of some trucker mag or the _Advocate_, you ruled it out? Maybe her friends don't know either. Before the D.A.'s office she worked at Daddy's law firm – maybe she didn't want him to know, so she stayed hidden in the closet."

"You know about the _Advocate?"_

"I got a buddy who pitches for the other side. Ain't no big thing. Or did you take one look at me and think 'homo-phobe' because I'm big and I'm black and I live down here?"

"I hadn't thought about it – but looking at you, big, black guy, Harlem apartment – currently something of a shit-hole – it might cross my mind that you wouldn't pal around with the 'other team'."

He laughed, "Guess maybe you're not as good as they say you are."

Diana flushed – how dare he! It wasn't like she was trying to get a feel for him, she was just going off first impressions… "Anyway," she said, coldly.

Fincontinued to laugh. "Got to you."

"_Anyway_," Diana went on. "I followed someone – presumably Vincent – from the construction site. I never got a look at him – but if he was a she, than she must be an Amazon."

"Look, I agree, I never got the lesbian feeling from Chandler's place either."

"Than why –"

"To see how far I had to go to get you mad," he continued to grin.

"Any special reason?"

"Nah. Where'd you follow this Vincent to?"

"An old warehouse, a few blocks from the construction site. Then I lost him. Weirdest thing – there didn't seem to be anywhere for him to go."

"We could go check it out."

"We could. Except I work alone."

"Maybe you used to – but you've got company now."

Diana glared at him. "I suppose you're trying to make me mad again?"

"No. Just statin' it like I see it."

"Get your coat," she growled. "We take my car and I drive."

"Whatever the lady wants."

-

-

Her grave lay still as stone, frozen in the morning drizzle. Next to it, Andy slumbered peacefully….

_Life, mama says  
Is bloodletting go  
If I care for nothing  
Sun don't shine and the grass don't grow  
Bloodletting go  
Society dictates  
by rules and regulations  
But when things are so tired  
You see things in the wrong light  
Soon there will be no light  
If the sun don't shine  
Life, mama says  
Is bloodletting go  
If I care for nothing  
Sun don't shine and the grass don't grow  
Bloodletting go  
If by chance we both forget  
The passage of space and time between  
Pick up the pieces cold and wet  
And drive them before the light to clean  
Good times, bad times  
Pain will come and pain will go  
If I care for nothing  
Sun don't shine  
And if by chance we both forget  
The passage of space and time between  
Pick up the pieces cold and wet  
And drive them before the light to clean  
Good times, bad times  
Pain will come and pain will go  
If I care for nothing  
Sun don't shine and the grass don't grow  
Bloodletting go_

_Tears for Fears_

-

"Fucking bastard," she kicked dirt onto his head stone.

Kate turned from their graves to the footprints that had led her here. The earth was still damp from the rain that had fallen…their prints were fresh – clean. Easy to read; she knelt and touched them – one was Fin's – the other, the lady's – Diana. Kate didn't know how she knew the things that she did, but she knew them. She could see the two of them as clearly as if they were standing right here – she sensed Diana's curiosity – Fin's resignation. He knew what he was going to find, but he had to see it anyway. Kate smiled – he was pragmatic in his way – he needed proof of what was right in front of him. Hell, a year ago, she wouldn't have believed in angels either…

Letting herself go, Kate felt more deeply of the people who had been here…she stepped inside of their heads, at least for a few moments…

Fin was a dark and brooding soul; he'd grown up hard, learned the bitter lessons of life early on. Yet he wasn't bitter himself – cynical, but not bitter. He tried to find joy – but it was a rare commodity on the streets…no one needed to tell Kate that. She felt his pain, as he witnessed hers – her broken body – he'd cried over her – so young…so young…he wept silent tears for the helpless – tears he never shared with anyone. Not even his wife… He felt every injustice around him – he took it in until it became a part of him. He carried those with him, scars on his soul – he clung to them as he clung to his very life…if he didn't let go…if he didn't let go…she could feel his potential to become like her…she'd felt it in Catherine, too… if Catherine had died, Kate wondered, would a crow have stood watch over her grave until she rose from the sullen earth? Would one stand over Fin's, when he finally got in over his head and took a fatal bullet?

Kate opened her eyes, half expecting to see Fin there – but he was long gone. "So this is why your wife left you," she whispered, picking up the most recent of the roses he'd left for her. He had carried the image of Kate's body in his mind and on his soul, and his wife could no longer bear the unhappiness that he brought into the house every night when he came home. It wasn't just Kate – it was every hurt he saw – it became a part of him. She didn't care about the hours he spent away – she had just wanted the hours they spent together to be about her and their son...

Kate touched Diana's footprint, and wasat once overwhelmed by the intensity of the red headed woman's empathy. Diana had a special gift for getting into people's heads – she'd had it all her life. It hadn't always been welcomed, especially by family members…one…an uncle…Kate burned with anger…Diana had been ten…he hadn't touched her, it was a cousin…no one listened…Diana begged them, but no one listened… until it was too late… after that, no one was quiet comfortable around her… she took no solace in friendships - those were few and far between...she retreated into her own soul for comfort… but she didn't bear the same scarred soul that Fin did – she purged her scars, shedding them at the end of each case she worked, like a snake shedding its skin.. and she had never quite learned how to fall in love...

Roses. Poetry. Diana had become infatuated by an image of perfection – _Vincent._ She would not stop looking until she found Vincent; and she of all people stood a good chance of finding him. Diana Bennett internalized everything – made it a part of her – that's why she'd become infatuated with the ideal of Vincent. Kate wondered what she would do when confronted with the real deal…

_Hey, Monkey-girl – the white haired freak has left the building._

_Headed where?_

_Up your way – I'm just behind him. He's moving fast, motorcycle – looks armed and dangerous. Saw him carrying a riffle case._

_How the hell do you know what a riffle case looks like?_

_Why wouldn't I know what a riffle case looks like? You think I'm ignorant or something?_

For a second, Kate thought he actually sounded offended. _No, of course not. I'm sorry – I guess you must have seen a lot before me._

_Damn skippy. Now haul your scrawny little Monkey ass into gear. This guy is out for blood._

_He can't know about the Tunnels, can he?  
Dunno. I ain't never heard of 'em – but I'm just an ignorant wise cracking bird, so what would I know?_

_You're something, all right. _Kate was on her feet, moving fast.

-

Snow fell – cold winds blew, cutting to the bone – people lay frozen to death where they slept…

Vincent woke with a start.

"What is it?" Catherine asked.

"Just – a nightmare." He glanced over – Elliot was asleep in the chair. "I – I'll be back soon," he told her.

"Vincent?" Catherine asked.

"It is nothing. You should rest. I'll be back soon."

-

"A snow storm, in the Tunnels?" Jacob asked. "Vincent – we're miles underground. The weather does not touch us here."

"I know what I saw."

"It was just a dream."

Vincent looked to Devin for back up – surely, if anyone would believe in him…

"Vincent, Father's right. This place doesn't get snow or rain or sun or anything."

Jacob glared at him – it was true, but Devin made it sound so negative when he put it that way. "Vincent – you've been under a tremendous strain. I'm sure it is nothing. Go back to Catherine – try to rest."

"How can I rest – my son is out there – missing. Terrible dreams of frozen death haunt my dreams – and all you would have me do is try to sleep – so that the dreams can return?"

"Come on," Devin guided his brother out of their Father's chamber – the look of gratitude on the old man's face wasn't lost on him. "If it'll make you happy, we can go walk the perimeter together. After you see that nothing's the matter, then will you believe that it was just a dream?"

Vincent said nothing. It was more than just a dream, he could feel it in his bones.

-

Jacob sat - Mary's assessment of hishealthwas not incorrect. He could not eat - his stomach kept rejecting the very notion of food. He had not slept - every time he closed his eyes, he was plagued by nightmares...dreams of the tunnels falling down around them under massive towers - of the outside world swarming in on them... of this Gabriel and Vincent's son... and now Vincent dreamt of snow storms...here... Jacob closed his eyes, feeling every single one of his many years falling down upon him...

-

"You sure this is the place?" Fin asked Diana. There was nothing here, just an old warehouse.

"This is the place – he went in through that window," she pointed up. "I waited a few seconds and then followed him in."

"And?"

"And he wasn't here."

Shaking his head, Fin followed her to the window – he offered her a leg up and wasn't surprised when she gave him a sour look and then did it on her own. She was stubborn, that was for sure. He followed her in.

Eau de Rat-droppings filled the dank, dusty air. Fin had seen his fair share of shit holes – this place was really no worse than any other – he just had a hard time believing anyone would come in here for any reason at all.

"Maybe there's some sort of hidden door or something," Diana mused aloud. It would certainly fit with the whole mysterious air this Vincent put on.

"Hidden door? I think you've been reading too many Nancy Drew novels."

Diana bit her tongue on a tart response. "Look – you insisted on coming, so you can help or walk home."

"Fine choice that is," Fin shook his head. Resigned, he began searching for any kind of door – hidden or otherwise – that might get them out of the rat and cockroach infested dump. What the hell did a rich society lady like Catherine Chandler see with a guy who went skulking around in places like this, anyway?

-

Vincent made his way through the Tunnels with Devin – with every step, he felt a greater foreboding in his soul. Darkness burned around him – it pulled him, relentlessly drawing away from those he loved – away from the warmth of his dearest friends and family towards the ice and the snow… "Can you not feel it?" He asked his brother at last.

"Feel what?"

"A dark force – descending."

"Vincent – "

"Vincent!" a boy of twelve ran towards them as fast as he could.

"What is it Geoffery?"

"Two people have just come down into the Tunnels, under the warehouse near Fairfax and Beaumont," the boy had huff and puff between words to catch his breath.

"Has Father been told?"

The boy nodded, "He wanted me to find you – to tell you. He wanted you to know that Kate is back too. Then he muttered something about tickets and guided tours?"

Devin bit his lip to keep from laughing.

"All right. Ask Jamie to meet me – it is probably nothing," he added to the concerned expression on the boy's face. "Perhaps they found the entrance accidentally and have just wandered in to see what it was that they stumbled into."

Geoffery nodded and dashed off.

"You don't really believe that, do you?" asked Devin.

"No. Perhaps you should go back –"

"What, don't you think I have the stomach to watch my little brother in action?" Devin queried with a wry grin.

Vincent turned from the direction they had been going and began making his way towards the interlopers– still, he could not shake the feeling that waswalking _away_ from the darkness and snow, rather than towards it.

-

"Hey, Joe," Mike Logan poked his head into Maxwell's office. Normally he didn't make 'house calls' to the D.A.'s office – but Maxwell was a friend of Catherine Chandler's – and Chandler had been a friend of his best friend's fiancé … and right now it was really hard to know who to trust, with the stuff being said about Moreno…

"Detective – what can I do for you?"

"You're not gonna believe this – we got a hit on the prints off that pipe someone used to bash in the backbone of one of the dead guys from that building the other night."

"So what am I not going to believe?"

"Who they belong to," Logan handed over the file.

Joe frowned – he didn't usually get visits from cops – even friends – about fingerprint matches, no matter how unusual or high profile the case. He read the file. And read it again. Zito. Kate. A grave…Kate…Catherine had mentioned a Kate…"There's gotta be some kind of mistake."

"Yeah, that's what I thought too – so I called down to the Eighty-Seventh and talked to the partner of one of the guys who worked it."

"Why'd you talk to the partner and not the guy?"

"He's on personal leave – wife just left him or something."

"What's the guy's name?" Joe asked, even though he already knew the answer.

Logan had to pull out his note pad – he flipped through a couple of pages before coming to it. "Tutuola – Odafin. Narcotics. You ok, you're looking a little pale."

"It's been a long day. Thanks for bringing this to me, Logan – and do me a favour – don't tell anybody else about it, ok?"

"Sure – no one'd believe it anyway."

"Yeah," Joe tried to laugh it off. Fin. And a dead girl's prints. And Vincent. And Elliot. And Tunnels…he was beginning to feel as if he'd been swept up in a tornado and landed in Oz… he picked up the phone and dialed – there was no answer at Fin's place. Figured. He thought about paging him – but Vincent was enough of a discovery for one day…and right now the only person he really wanted to see was Cathy.

Joe grabbed his coat and headed out the door, "I'm taking off early," Joe nodded to Nora on his way out.

"You don't answer to me Joe – I'm not here to take Moreno's place. For all we know the whole story about him being in that explosion last night was a hoax."

"Yeah. Let's hope so," he replied, dully. Hoax. Sure – it would be called that for a while, until he was officially declared missing…or until the M.E. found some trace of him in the blast (doubtful by all accounts.) "If anything happens, call me. I'll have my pager on me."

"Have a good night – try to get some sleep. You look as if you could use it."

Sleep. Yeah, right. Sleep. A dead girl's fingerprints found at a two day old murder scene…and not just any dead girl, a dead girl whose grave Odafin Tutuola visited every month…

And what was under the park – where did that tunnel really lead to? How many people could really live down there…and what did they look like…? There was only one way to find out – he hadn't exactly been given an engraved invitation…but they'd told him that he could come back and someone would find him before he got lost… "Not let's hope someone got the memo..."

-

The white haired man arrived in China Town –once there,he went to one of the oldest known Tunnel Entrances…theTong had been using these tunnels for well over fifty years – and Gabriel's sources told him that others used them to…and that one of those others was an extraordinary individual called Vincent…a man like Vincent wouldn't rest until he had his son back – and looking at what he'd done a few nights ago…no it was better to err on the side of caution and kill this Vincent, before he had the chance to act...


	11. Eleven

**Chapter Eleven:**

_A waking world of innocence  
So grave those first born cries  
When life begins with needles and pins  
It ends with Swords and Knives  
Oh dangerman, oh dangerman  
Your blade fits like a glove  
When forged in steel  
Time cannot heal  
That blood red bond of love  
In times of trouble you're an open book  
With the change in the way you look  
And its sad love's not enough to make things better  
Turn the tables, we'll burn the fables  
Lies beneath the visions and daydreams  
Fooled by now, we mystify the past  
Like a dream, like it never happened  
When life begins with needles and pins  
It ends with Swords and Knives  
God save those born to die_

Tears for Fears

-

A man with a whethered face and snow white hair made his way through the secret passages under the city...

He'd come to kill or be killed. No turning back. No compromise...

-

"Vincent!" Kate caught up to he and Devin at nearly the same time Jamie did.

"What is it?"

"There's someone here - an assassin."

"We know," Jamie had her cross bow notched and ready.

"No – not _here_ – coming," Kate shook her head - she could feel the darkness descending on the tunnels... "A guy with white hair – he's the one whoshotElliot Burch."

"The snow storm..." breathed Vincent.

"Snow storm?" Kate wanted to know.

"A dream – it would not let me sleep – a deadly snow had invaded the Tunnels."

"We got word that the sentries had seen two people come in this way," Devin began, then shrugged.

"No – not this way – I – feel it. Somehow," Kate tried to explain – but she didn't understand it herself, just that she could feel the evil that had invaded the tunnels; it was coming from a different direction than the one in which Vincent was headed. "He came in through China Town."

"Some of the oldest entrances are there,"Devin supplied.

Vincent nodded, then asked, "Are you sure this – threat – is here already?"

"Pretty sure. I'm getting better at feeling things I can't see. And – I think I know where you son is being held. I don't think you can get there, though. Staten Island."

"We'll worry about that after this threat has been removed," Vincent said softly – there was a dark edge to his tone.

"What about the couple the sentries saw?" Jamie wanted to know.

"You and I can handle that," Devin told her. "Vincent – you go deal with this snow storm of yours."

"Kate – "

She smiled up at the big leonine man, "I'll check this out – then find you."

"I would rather you went to Catherine and Elliot – if I am unsuccessful – they will need you. All of them."

"Yeah – but if we're together, there's twice the chance of success."

"You'll be successful," Jamie told Vincent. "You always are."

"Let us hope so," Vincent didn't wait to hear more – he took off in the direction of China Town, the direction his senses had pulled him in the first place.

-

"Seal off the as many of the tunnels leading directly to the hub as you can," Jacob ordered the team of men and women who had assembled in answer to his call. Two strangers wandering around aimlessly was one thing – but the man who had come in through China Town was reportedly armed and appeared to know where he was headed. Straight to the hub. "And send someone to find this other one," he knew who the man must be – Joe Maxwell. Vincent had told him about that too – at this rate they might as well sell tickets! "Get him here as quickly as possible – have Pascal order an all quiet on the pipes. I thought someone said Kate had been spotted in the Tunnels?"  
"She was," Kipper said, "Geoffery went to tell Vincent, just like you wanted. She headed straight for him, like she knew where he was. She's with Jamie and Devin, now."

"Very well. Mary – assemble the children in the Great Hall."

"Father –"

"Just – do it. Please. Take Catherine and her friend there as well – and yourself and Martha." An armed man, coming through China Town – and he seemed to know where he was going… "We may be in greater danger than we are willing to realize," he told hisher softly– and immediately regretted it when he saw the fear in her eyes. "Do not worry – I am sure Vincent will protect us from it – but – let us not take chances."

"No – no of course not," Mary tried to feel heartened by his words – but Father's eyes betrayed his fears...they always did.

-

"What's going on?" Elliot asked – the sudden cession of tapping was disconcerting.

"I don't know – Samantha?" she queried when the girl came into the chamber.

"Father wants you and Mr. Burch to go to the Great Hall with us – someone has come in through China Town. I think Father's scared."

"Where's Vincent?" she asked.

"He went to see what it was – and to stop the man."

Trying to hold back her fear, Catherine went to Elliot's side, "Let me help you," she said. Vincent was the protector of those Below – the very things that scared her the most about his character, his fearlessness andprotectiveness, drew her to him, made her love him more…

"I can make it," Elliot tried to protest her help. And nearly fell over as pain shot up his leg from the wound, when he tried to put his weight on it.

"Come on – lean on me."

"I'll be fine – just give me a minute," Elliot tried to wave her off – to no avail. "When did you get so stubborn?"

"I've always been this way – you just never noticed before now."

-

"You hear that?" Fin asked.

"The tapping, it stopped," Diana had been puzzled about the tapping ever since they first heard it. She recognized Morse Code immediately – but with so many messages zinging back and forth, it was hard for her to pick anything out. She'd caught China Town, white hair, gun, Kate, and their location. She'd been expecting a welcome wagon for the last hundred yards – and suddenly she got one. The maniacal laugh made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

"Kate?" Fin called into the darkened tunnel. He recognized that laugh…

Diana frowned. "Kate?" As in Zito, she wondered…as in the open grave…the coffin burst from the inside out…now she was getting silly! Diana shook herself. There was a rational explanation for that. She might not know what it was – but there was one. There had to be.

"This is a bad time to be making house calls, Detective. Say, I never did get your name," she stepped out of the darkness.

"Odafin Tutuola – Fin for short."

"Well, Fin – this is a bad time to making house calls."

"Why, what's going down? What is this place?" he stepped closer to her – and was surprised to find Diana's cautioning hand on his arm. Not that he blamed her for being scared – just that he hadn't expected her to actually be worried enough about his ass to do anything about it.

Diana peered hard at the girl – she couldn't be more than fourteen or fifteen – standing half in the shadows...the cloying scent of death was all around her...there was a blackness there – not quite evil – but a malignancy nonetheless.Diana felt as if this woman-child was peering straight through her – as if Kate could see the very core of her soul...and she didn't care for the feeling.

Kate took a single step forward - Diana Bennett was an empath all right - she saw Kate for all that she was. Kate smiled. "The guy who shot at Elliot – the one who shot me – is down here. He's going to die. I'm only sorry I won't be the one to kill him."

Diana blanched – the girl's voice was ice. "Who are you?"

"You know. You were at my grave today. I went looking for Fin - and I felt you too." her voice had taken on almost a sing-song quality. Kate twirled a lenght of long black hair between her fingers.

Diana blinked.

Kate just smiled.

"If the guy who shot you and Burch is down here, Iwanna _talk _to him," Fin said. Talk. Yeah. Right.Nice euphemism.Kate saw right through him, he could tell by her smirk.

"Sorry, his ass belongs to someone else."

"I'm _not _leaving."

"Don't throw down gauntlets around me," Kate warned him. "You know what I can do."

"Yeah. And I know you won't do it to me."

Kate's eyes narrowed – she took several menacing steps towards him. The woman, at least, looked sufficiently terrified. She reached for her gun. Kate laughed.

"Put that down," Fin told Diana. "She's not armed."

"I don't got to be armed, Detective – you saw what I did two nights ago," she met the woman's gaze full on. Yeah, the lady saw what she was – she might not have the words, but she was scared of what she saw. Maybe she'd talk some sense into Fin. What was going on down here wasn't for them – it was between the people who lived here and the man who had invaded their sanctuary. "I did that with my bare hands – I bathed in their blood and reveled in their deaths. I left a dozen broken bodies in my wake - you think a gun scares me? You think _you_ scare me?"

"I don't scare you. I don't need to. An' I don't want to," Fin pulled away from Dianatook a step towards Kate Zito."An' I know you better than to believe you're not doin' anything more than blowing smoke now."

Kate pulled her gaze from the woman's to Fin's. Damn him, he wasn't flinching! Ignoring the gun in the woman's hand, Kate slunk all the way up to the big cop, until she could see the pores on his face and count the hairs on his chin; she stared him down, unblinking. He was impassive – he blinked as any normal human would, didn't even try to match her – and just stood there, waiting for her to drop the act.

Red took three steps back, kept the barrel of the gun aimed squarelyher chest – so the lady at least wasn't going to take any chances. On anyone else, it would be a kill shot. "You know, the girl with the crossbow standing right behind you might take exception to it if you shot me," Kate said coolly. "This is her sweater I'm wearing – she might be able to salvage it if no one else puts any holes in it."

Diana didn't seem to believe – until Jamie cleared her throat.

"So – you I'm just blowin smoke?" Kate asked Fin in a tone like broken glass.

"Yes."

"Damn it!" Kate dropped the menace. He laughed – it was – strangely – the most jovial laugh she'd ever heard. "Look, there really is shit going down, here," she told him.

"Yeah. Lead on."

Diana stood, blinking. She looked from Kate to Fin and back again, then gave Jamie a quick glance; the crossbow hadn't moved. She noticed the guy too – standing well out of the way of it all – and wondered who he was or what part he played in this nut-house. Then her attention returned to the girl – even if she was no longer 'blowing smoke', her eyes burned with a tumultuous darkness that was clearly inhuman…

"Yes – I really did all that shit two nights ago, bare handed and I enjoyed every second of it," Kate told her plainly. "But no, I really wasn't going to hurt either of you."

"She's only speaking for herself," Jamie added coldly.

Kate smirked, "And if you'd shot me – it wouldn't have stopped me, anyway. You saw the grave. Can only die once, you know."

Devin stepped from the shadows – unlike Jamie, he wasn't armed. It wasn't that he relied on others to do his fighting – he was capable enough with his fists and had been taking karate lessons for a few months before coming home – but he didn't know shit about using a crossbow. Besides – only a fool would have gotten between either of these two ladies and their perceived quarry. "Devin Wells," he said by way of introduction.

"Fin Tutuola and Diana Bennett," Fin introduced them. Looking at Diana's expression, he realized that he was going to have a lot of explaining to do, and it wasn't going to be pleasant.

"Right – Burch talked about you two," Devin replied.

"You know Burch?" Diana queried.

"Sort of. He's pals with my little brother."

Jamie shot Devin a look – to which he merely smirked.

"You – and Vincent?" Diana stopped short. Vincent's brother – could that mean that Vincent really _had_ used the same trap door that they had – that he'd sought refuge here…? Pieces started falling into place…there were still holes, but they were becoming fewer…

"You know him?" Devin couldn't believe that she could – he'd have heard about a hot red head, surly – and why would she be quite so shocked about Kate, strange as the girl might be, if she knew Vincent.

"Not – exactly. I mean – we've never met – I just –"

"Part of her job is to get inside people's heads," Fin supplied, continuing forward. "I think she got a little too far into your brother's skull."

Diana blushed.

Devin almost laughed. "Boy are you in for a shock, lady."

-

As Vincent drew nearer, he could smell the intruder – the oil of the gun – the musk of the man's own scent – gun powder – explosives. He was well armed. He was not afraid. And he was aware of what he faced….Vincent waited until he was upon him to announce his presence - the roar echoed through the tunnels - the echo made it impossible to tell where he really was - the man, however, was quick on the uptake and each got as good as they gave...

-

They were nearly there, when Elliot felt Catherine wince.

"What is it?"

"Vincent – he's hurt. I – I think he was shot."

"Is he –?"

Catherine shook her head, "He's alive. But hurt. Whatever hit him – it wasn't just a bullet from a hand gun."

-

Vincent fell back, bleeding from the shoulder – his flesh burned with pain. _Can't stay down_, he told himself. He found his feet again, struggling to stand…his shirt and vest were saturated with blood…

-

First they heard the roar - and then the shot...

Diana blinked - Fin glanced at Kate - so did Jamie.

"I'll see you guys there,"Kate said, andtook off.

Diana blinked some more. The speed at which she'd moved…no one ran that fast…

"Look, Devin – maybe you should head back," Jamie offered. "You're not armed…"

He shook his head. "Vincent's my brother – no matter what else – I'm not going to back down when he needs me."

"All right - but stay behind the rest of us. I'm assuming you're both armed?"

Fin nodded and drew his revolver; he started to take the point position - but the look in the blond girl's eyes suggested strongly that it might be a bad idea. "Ladies first," he told her.

Jamie smirked. "And don't you forget it."

A second shot rang out – followed by an inhuman roar…and that laugh…

-

Catherine stumbled – Elliot caught her, despite the pain it caused to take more weight on his leg. "Vincent?" he asked.

She nodded.

They'd just gotten to what had to be the Great Hall – others were waiting, a couple of older people and the children. So – they must really be expecting trouble, if they'd shuffled the old, the infirmed, and the children here… "Come on," Elliot helped her inside. He could see by Catherine's expression that she was scared. "It's going to be ok." He watched as they bolted the door from the inside – on another occasion, he might have marveled at the subterranean chamber…

"You should get off that leg, Elliot," Mary came to his side. "Catherine?"

"She's feeling Vincent - he'shurthurt," Elliot explained.

"Is it bad?"

Catherine nodded. Elliot held her.

-

The third shot hit Kate square in the chest – but at least it didn't hit Vincent. He'd already been nailed twice and was looking more than a little ragged – although from the look of the gash on blondie's right arm, he'd given as good as he'd gotten. The wound went clear to the bone. "Didn't you learn the last time," Kate asked the blond.

He balked. "You."

"Me." She smiled.

"You're – dead." He pulled a side arm from his belt and emptied the clip into her chest.

The force of each bullet pushed her a little further towards the rocky stone cave wall… Kate kept her balance as lead pierced her flesh; she watched in macabre amusement as he kept shooting, his face growing more and more gaunt as she didn't go down. "Yup, bang, I'm dead." Out of the corner of her eye, Kate could see Vincent getting up – she could also seeJamie – just coming around the bend. And Bennett…and Fin, with Devin bringing up the rear. Safe move that… A crossbow bolt sailed through the air, hitting blondie in the hand…or more accurately, through the hand. To his credit, the man didn't scream. He dropped the gun, but he didn't scream. Vincent was on him – poor guy, he never stood a chance. Kate stood by and watched. She had to give Vincent credit, he was cleaner than she'd have been.

Diana gaped at the wounds in the girl's chest – she looked to Fin, who merely shrugged.

"Are you – ok?"Diana asked Kate, refusing to believe what she was seeing…

"I can't exactly say that I'll live – sorry about the sweater – it's pretty much past repair," she said to Jamie.

"Don't worry about it," Jamie shrugged.

Diana felt her sense of reality crumbling…she continued to look at Fin…he didn't seem to have any answers either…no, it wasn't that he didn't have them, he simply didn't _need _them… he was absolutely content not understanding what was happening – it was happening, that was good enough for him… that was a quality she would not have guessed that the big narcotics detective would possess….interesting…

With his uninjured arm, Vincent hauled the invader up into the air by the throat, giving him just enough air to breath. "Who are you – who sent you!" he slammed the man's back against the cavern's rough stone wall.

"Doesn't matter – and you already know," he choked.

"Gabriel."

The man laughed. "Go ahead and kill me. It doesn't change anything. By morning Gabriel and his son will be half way across the globe."

**_"No! He is _MY _son!"_**

The man continued to laugh.

Diana strained to see more of what was happening – but Vincent's back was to her – all she could see was long blond hair and the black leather cloak…but the anguish in his voice…the strength required to lift a man …the fury she felt radiating from him…it was hard to reconcile that with books of poetry and rose bushes…

"Your friend Gabriel ain't goin' no where," Fin took a step towards the two men. He couldn't see any more than Diana – except for those hands…then again, he'd just seen Kate shot full of bullets…again… so what if this Vincent had fur…and claws…? And maybe it was stupid, but he flashed his shield anyway, "New York City police. We know where your buddy is camped out." He hoped. "We'll be on him like white on rice – you're all goin' down hard."

The man continued to laugh, "You really think you can touch us?"

**_"Enough!"_** Vincent roared – under his anger the other's windpipe was crushed…the man slumped in his grasp, dead.

"Just for the record, I didn't see – " Fin began – Vincent turned. " – A thing. Nope, not a thing," he repeated. Not unless he wanted to end up on the psych ward for a long, long time.

Vincent gazed from the man to the woman and then to Jamie and Devin – Jamie had seen his rage before – but to have killed so easily, so callously – yet he saw no sign of hatred or mistrust in her eyes. If anything, he saw sympathy – she knew he hated killing. She knew this man was somehow part of the organization that had held Catherine captive – a friend to the man who still held his son – her eyes shifted to the dead man, andVincent saw nothing but contempt in them. Contempt for anyone foolish enough to invade their sanctuary.

"He got what he deserved, Vincent," Jamie said to him after a moment.

"She's right," Devin agreed.

"I –"he looked at the dead man. He'd gotten nothing – but the others were safe. That as something – Catherine was safe…but the man's words still rang in his ears_…"Go ahead and kill me. It doesn't change anything. By morning Gabriel and his son will be half way across the globe." _He looked at the police officer – he certainly didn't look like a police officer…could they really know where Gabriel was? Could they get to him in time? Was there anything the police could do – they hadn't been able to find Catherine – what made them believe they could find the man they must suspect had killed her? "The childis notGabriel's son," he said, softly, afraid. "He is my son. Mine and Catherine's. She's alive. Here. Safe."

"We know – it's cool," Fin told him. Whatever he was – Burch knew the guy, seemed ok with him, and Fin had decided that he was ok with Burch… And lot of things made more sense seeing him. All the secrets and shadows – man – what a day… he moved towards the dead guy to look him over more closely – something caught his attention – a ring. A signet ring. He pulled it off the guy's finger. "Bennett, you ever see anything like this before – Bennett? Diana?" he looked up at her – she was staring at Vincent, transfixed.

"You're bleeding," Diana finally managed to find her voice; she took a tentative step forward, towards the golden furred man – he flinched away from her touch, a glimmer of fear in his eyes – no, suspicion might be a better word. He wasn't afraid of her, but he was wary of her world...she gazed up intohis eyes...they were blue. What an odd colour, all things considered… "You need a doctor. I know a little first aid - but that's an awful lot of blood." The roses. The poetry… _this _was Vincent. Catherine Chandler's lover…incredible...

"I will be fine," Vincent lied, stepping back from her. The truth was that he'd never felt so much pain from a bullet before. The policeman turned his attention from the dead man and picked up the rifle – it was still loaded – Vincent tensed, ready to spring away from them – did he mean – despite his words…no, he was just looking at it.

"This thing packs a hell of a wallop – you probably do need a doctor – I assume you got one down here somewhere –?"

"Father is going to be overjoyed," Devin put in quietly. The cop was taking things amazingly well...andRed was just fixated on Vincent.Devin hoped she realized that Vincentalready had a lady… why was it he got all the hot babes, anyway? Life was _not_ fair…

"Do you really know where Gabriel is?" Vincent asked, hopefully.

"I do," Kate said, before Fin could answer.

"Than there is no time for anything else – if he really is about to flee the country, I must get to him."

"Look – you're in no shape," Fin began. The guy was soaked in his own blood – maybe a little of the dead guy's too – and unlike Kate, Fin didn't think that he could just shrug off so much damage. Her wounds were already closed and the blood loss didn't seem to affect her.

"Vincent, he's right," said Jamie.

Vincent looked to his brother – Devin nodded. "Come on, let's get you to Father. I know you heal fast – but you need to get those looked at. He's right, guns like this pack a helluva wallop."

"I cannot abandon my son. I must get to him before Gabriel flees the country. If he does that – if he does that, we may never find him." Hopelessness…despair…he couldn't allow Gabriel to win!

"Vincent," Kate laid her hand gently on his arm; she could feel his pain as sharply as if it were her own. He was the one person who needed Gabriel's blood more than she … "The bird is watching Gabriel – he'll know if the slime ball goes anywhere."

"Even so – it may be too late by the time we are able to get to him. I cannot loose my son to that monster. You must understand that."

"Which is why I'm going after him. For you. Not for me – I – I don't need what I thought I needed."

Vincent searched her face – her eyes still showed the tumultuousness of her soul – the darkness hidden in her deepest recesses – but it was tempered by – by something else that he could not name. Hope, love – friendship. There was no peace – but there was hope growing inside of her. Vincent closed his hand over hers. "I trust you to find him – but you cannot go alone. Even you may not be able to stand up to Gabriel a second time – he will be ready for you now. He has seen what you can do – he does not strike me as the sort of man who will let his guard down twice."

"Look, man – you've probably got more punch than I do – but I'll go with Kate, we'll find this Gabriel. And your kid."

Vincent searched the face of the stranger for some hint of deception – he believed in the best in men – but he had seen so much of the worst. "We are strangers to one another – why would you help, seeing that I am so different from yourself?"

"I just lost my own wife and kid – not quite the same, she left me – but I can empathize, at least a little. 'Sides, I owe this creep for what he did to Kate and her brother."

Quietly, Diana moved away from the golden furred man and stepped next to Fin – she would go with them. Fin put his hand on her shoulder – wordless acceptance of her silent offer. As much as she liked to work alone…she had the feeling that they would make a good team. At least this once…

"Vincent, let _us_ go," Kate told him, joining Fin and Diana. "Get yourself patched up. Go to Catherine."

With adrenalin ebbing from his veins, Vincent began to feel the weakness of blood loss – pain throbbed through him from his wounds. Even he wasn't invincible. In his current shape there was no way he could stand against Gabriel…but to trust these strangers, even when there was so clear a connection to Kate…yet, were not all friends simply strangers that one did not yet know…? He nodded – felt himself faltering…

Devin caught Vincent as his knees gave way – even he couldn't sustain that much blood loss. "Go on," he said to the others. "I'll get him to Father."

"I'll show you the fastest way out," Jamie offered.

"Do you know a good way to get to Staten Island?" Kate asked.

Jamie nodded, "I think I can get you pretty close, anyway – follow me."


	12. Twelve

**Chapter Twelve:**

"Follow me."

Joe jumped out of his skin – he hadn't even seen the girl sneak up.

"You're Mr. Maxwell, right? I'm Julia."

"Julia – yeah, hi, I'm Joe Maxwell." He looked at her – she couldn't be more than thirteen. "You alone?"

Julia Nelson regarded him with curious brown eyes. "No one's alone Below."

"Below?"

"Here. Below. Someone would have been here to get you sooner but – maybe Catherine should explain it to you."

"Why – what happened?"

"It's over now. Come on," she turned and began leading the way.

"So – how long you lived down here?" Joe asked, following the strangely clad girl; layers of sweaters and scarves, soft leather boots, fingerless gloves – hues of brown and olive green and russet. A pair of long golden-brown braids dangled down almost to the girl's knees – a slingshot dangled from her waist, next to it a small cloth sack, probably filled with ammunition.

"Six years."

"Six years – how – I mean, are your parents here?"

She shook her head, "My father killed my mother – I was four. My grandmother took me in – but she was really sick – one of her neighbours is a Helper. When Gran died, Mr. Parker said he knew some place safe I could go – he would have kept me, but he's a little older too. Besides, I don't think the social worker liked him too much. I don't think she liked me too much – and I know she didn't like Gran at all. So the night that Gran died, Mr. Parker had me pack my bags and he brought me here."

"What about your father?"

She shrugged, "Gran said he went to jail – but that he'd get out some day. She was always afraid of that happening. Mr. Parker says he's still in and has at least a few more years to go – I guess he made some sort of deal and didn't go to jail for as long as he should have."

"You don't sound afraid," Joe observed – how many killers had had to make deals with?

Julia shrugged, "He can't find me here."

"Guess not – didn't your social worker ever come looking for you, though? A kid can't just disappear without anybody noticing."

"Wanna bet?"

Joe said nothing more. Julia was probably from a poor family, the sort of people easily forgotten… finally, as they came to the bottom of a very long, winding stair, he asked, "How do you manage not to get lost down here?" he realized that he'd never be able to find his way back again.

"Every tunnel is different, just like every street Above is different. They might look the same to a stranger – but to the people who live there, every one is unique."

"Yeah – but at least we have street signs!"

Julia laughed, "I guess maybe that helps. Don't worry, someone will be able to help you find your way back."

"Julia!" called a voice. It belonged to a young man with blond hair and bright eyes. "Need extra hands! Closing off Tunnels, Carlo said come – bring help. Big job."

"I'll be right there," she called back to Mouse. "I have to go help – if you go down that way – then veer off to the left – then right at the 'T' – you'll come to the main hub and someone can direct you to Vincent's chamber."

"Left – then right," Joe nodded – and off she went with the strange young man…

Left…then right… and into a flurry of activity. There had to be at least atwentypeople coming and going in all directions – children ran, only to be scolded by an elderly lady who looked like she should be teaching school in Walnut Grove instead of living like a mole-person…

"You must be Catherine's friend," Mary stopped when she saw the bemused looking man.

"Guess my cloths gave me away,"Joe said, lamely; she smiled anyway. "Julia got called away to help with something – she said I should ask someone to tell me how to get to Vincent's quarters?"

"He's at Father's – oh!" She waved across the 'hall' to a face that Joe recognized. "I need to get the children settled, but I'm sure Devin will show you the way."

"Devin?" Joe looked at the man again, sure that he knew him – a man wearing jeans (unlike anyone else that Joe could see), and a thick sweater with a long scarf wrapped around his neck.

Devin laughed, "I'm afraid that as a lawyer, I was a sham – but it's still good to see you again, Joe," he held out his hand.

Joe accepted his handshake – then he noticed the blood on the man's shirt… "You ok?"

"Vincent was hurt – I helped him back – he'll be fine," Devin said, before Joe could ask. "Catherine's with him – but Elliot should be settled back into his chair. Come on – it's just down this way," he led the way down corridor off the main 'hall.' It was less wide and slightly quieter – the tapping of the pipes not withstanding.

"Thanks. But – what are you doing here?" Joe wanted to know - he remembered the guy now...a top notch young lawyer...and a sham?

"I grew up here. And I never went to law school," he confided. "I live in California, now - I'm an honest to goodness student, so that eventually I can get a job that will be legit– butwhen it comes down to it,still call these Tunnels home."

"What – you – here?"

"Oh – there's a dead guy in one of the Tunnels – he worked for Gabriel."

"What happened?"

"Vincent happened. I hear you've met?"

"Yeah – you could say that. You – grew up_ here_?" Joe asked again.

"Vincent is my little brother – foster brother," he explained quickly. Poor Joe didn't look as if he could take too many more shocks today.

They arrived at Vincent's chamber – Elliot was sitting, a book in his lap; he wasn't actually reading. Catherine had been called away – Vincent had been injured in a fight with some hit man sent by Gabriel – that was the last he'd heard. Seeing the blood on Devin's sweater didn't make him fell any better... "How's Vincent?" He asked.

"He took a couple of bullets from a high powered riffle in the shoulder and thigh. He's going to be fine – he heals almost twice as fast as we mere mortals," Devin gave a wry grin. "I was just telling Joe about the body – you heard about that, I assume?"

"Only sketchy details – I think I'm going to need to learn Morse code so I can keep up on what's going on."

Devin laughed – he offered Joe a seat and then found one himself. "Yeah, the best way to keep abreast of what's going on isthrough the pipes. It's how news travels so fast around here."

"What about privacy?" Joe asked.

"It's hard to explain to someone from Up Top. You learn to selectivly not listen to other people's conversations - and it's not like we really keep secrets from each other, anyway. In case you didn't notice, there aren't many doors."

"Yeah - I kinda had noticed that," said Joe.

Elliot turned to Joe, "How iseverything up there? Did - anything happen to bring you down?"

"No – I just – I had some questions. A lot of questions. Now I think I have more," he looked to Devin. "So who is this dead guy?"

"An assassin – the one who tired to kill Elliot. He's dead now. Kate and the other two went after Gabriel – she found where he's holed up."

"Kate – that was one of my questions – according to a police report, she's dead. And what other two?"

"Detective Tutuola and some woman named Bennett."

"Fin and Diana," Elliot and Joe said almost as one.

"You know them?" inquired a soft voice behind them; Vincent struggled not to lean on Catherine as they walked.

BothJoe and Elliot– Joe and Devin both jumped in to help Vincent to his bed. Joe felt – strange – he realized that if he didn't think about it, he didn't think of Vincent as anything other than a man. As soon as he started thinking of it, he got thoughts and images in his head that he just didn't want… "So – they find out where Gabriel is – and where he has your kid stashed?"

"Kate found the location," Vincent said, hating being so dependant on strangers – it was worse than being dependant on his friends. "The assassin claims that Gabriel is preparing to leave the country."

"Did anyone say where he was hiding out?" Joe asked.

"Staten Island," said Devin.

"I gotta go – they can't go in there alone – they'll get killed!"

"Joe," Catherine began, "We don't know how many men Gabriel has – or how many police are on his payroll. You could put them in danger by calling in backup."

Joe sighed, frustrated. "There has to be something we can do! There are guys I know – guys I trust. Those two can't just walk in there alone."

"They are not alone," Vincent told him.

"I still gotta help."

-

"Look, you can use all the help you can get," Jamie protested.

"All you got is a cross bow," Fin countered her arguement with one of his own that he _thought_ sounded logical.

"Yeah, and it was pretty effective, wasn't it?" Kate inquired.

"She has a point," Diana said. "We could use the help."

Fin just looked at her, "Diana Bennett accepting help? What next – the second coming?"

"Let's hope not – I just booked a cruise to Jamaica – I'd like to get the chance to go on it!"

Fin laughed, "Ok, Jamie – you're in. Just get behind the rest of us if bullets start flying, ok?"

"No," she favoured him with a rue grin.

_Heads up, _the bird said into Kate's mind, showing her what he was seeing.

"_Fuck_," Kate cursed, almost under her breath.

"What?" Fin wanted to know.

"There's a shit load of activity at Gabriel's place – we'd better move. Fast."

"We're not far," Jamie said. "But we'll have to come up with a way to get to the island."

"Find me a boat," said Diana.

Fin looked at her.

"Hey, I used to be a bad girl – I canhot wirejust about anything."

"Once you start it, can you drive it?"

She just looked up at him and smiled.

"There are boats up here," Jamie said, leading them up towards the man hole cover. "Lots of boats – and boat parts." Mouse had liberated no few supplies from the wharf…much to Father's chagrin.

-

Diana brought the boat to ground as close to Gabriel's estate as she could – once they touched land, Kate went on ahead. She was faster and stronger – and a bullet wouldn't stop her.

_What's going on?_ Kate asked the bird as the night passed her by in a blur of black and grey and blue.

_Coming – going – no sign of Gabriel yet – no helicopters either. My guess is he's planning to drive out of here – then catch a jet later._

_Let me know if you see him come out – I'm almost there. The others should be just behind me…_

_-_

"You sure are full of surprises," Fin said; Diana had just hotwired a jeep. It looked like a service vehicle used by marina employees. "I thought I was the one who should be hotwiring cars and steeling boats."

"Tell you what, the next time we commit grand theft auto together, you can be the one to hotwire it," Diana gave him a wry grin.

"Very funny," Fin got into the passenger side as Jamie slid into the back seat. "You sure you know where you're going?" he asked Diana.

"Call it instinct," she told him. Of course there weren't that many choices – only one road led out of the marina – at the fork, she could go one way into the state park, or the other into the nearest little city – Diana didn't think that Gabriel was in the city. A few minutes later, she slowed – up ahead there were lights…

-

Kate perched in a tree, watching the house – it was too bright. Through the bird's eyes, she saw what she needed – a power box…down…slipping unseen through the tall grass… _Find the others – bring them in this way, _she told the bird, focusing on a road that was free of human activity.

_And just how exactly do I do that?_ the bird wanted to know.

_You and Fin have a rapport – use it._

_-_

Diana pulled the jeep off the road – three cars rolled by, not seeming to notice them. Then a big black bird dove out of the sky – straight for Fin – on an instinct he would never quite understand, he raised his arm – and the thing landed on it. It squawked.

"Nice to see you too," he said. "I hope you got something good to say – and some way to say it…" Then, images filtered into his mind – hazy at first – a little painful, like the onset of a migraine…

"Well?" Jamie asked.

"Gimme a minute – this sorta thing don't exactly come natural," he closed his eyes – that was better. "Ok – tell her we're on our way," he told the crow – and the bird was off again. Damn, if anyone from the department had seen it, he'd be locked up for good… "Kate's gonna cut the power – there's probably a back up generator somewhere – Jamie, you think you can find it and disable it?"

She nodded, "I should be able to do that."

"There's a service road, just through these woods – path leads to it – it goes straight to Gabriel's estate. Generator shed is probably out back somewhere."

"I'll catch up with you two later then," Jamie started off into the darkness.

"Be careful," Diana called after her.

"Don't worry – my eyes are more used to the dark than yours – I'll be fine." She slunk into the shadows.

Fin and Diana headed towards the service road – they'd just gotten to the fence when the power went – they were over the fence – the power returned – and just as suddenly went out again.

"Looks like she found the shed ok," Diana opined. "So – you got a plan?"

"Get in, get the baby, get out."

"Oh – brilliant."

"I didn't say executing it would be easy."

-

Kate made her way into the house through a small, second story window – the bathroom was adjacent to the nursery. Luck? Maybe sixth sense operating…

Gabriel stood by the crib, gazing down at the child…he held a gun in one hand and a pillow in the other, as if he'd been about to smother the child…he looked up, not seeming particularly surprised to see her. "I knew it would be you or Vincent."

"Your assassin is dead." she told him; Katewas surprised – he looked pained by that revelation.

Still, all Gabriel said was, "I've killed you three times now. Yet you will not die."

_Show the others the way here, _she told the bird. Then, to Gabriel, "When are you going to learn – only the first time mattered. That turned me into what you see before you."

"And what is that?"

"Innocence lost."

"There's no such thing as innocence."

"You don't think he's innocent," she nodded towards the baby.

"Yes – but for how long? When I was five, I pulled the wings off a fly. Hardly the act of an innocent."

"Yeah – but you're special."

From downstairs they heard shots fired.

"You're not alone," Gabriel observed quietly.

"No."

"Let me guess – your passionate knight, Detective Tutuola – a man who ruined his marriage for the sake of a dead girl – and Diana Bennett, special investigator."

"Very good."

Gabriel just smiled.

More shots were fired – outside the window, the sounds of police sirens could be heard. So, Kate thought, Joe Maxwell must have found some cops they could trust. Good. For Gabriel's men.

"You actually called the police?" He asked.

"You can't own them all."

"The truth is that I don't own very many at all – but the ones who belong to me have the best jobs."

"Bet you helped with that." She edged closer to him. He raised the gun – she smiled. "Go ahead – sweater's already ruined anyway."

"You have a choice," Gabriel said, "My son is dying. If you take him now, perhaps Vincent and Catherine will get to hold him one last time before he expires."

Kate stepped closer to the crib – the child was pale – his eyelids seemed almost translucent, they were so blue. "What have you done to him?"

"I've loved him – but he will not eat. He has everything – and yet he cries."

"You don't know what love is," she leaped at him – Gabriel fired – the shot seared through her right shoulder. Kate ignored the pain; she backed Gabriel into the wall, pinning the arm that held the gun. In his crib, the child screamed.

"Now look what you've done," Kate slammed his gun hand against the wall; it fell from his fingers. "You've woken him."

"Who – _what _are you?"

She smiled – he was gazing into the recesses of her eyes – she could feel him – examining her – seeking a logical explanation. Even Vincent, he must believe, had a logical explanation. A random mutation of nature – some bizarre occurrence that, no matter how odd, didn't defy the laws of reality. She, however, broke those laws, at least as Gabriel must understand them. "Do you believe in life after death?" Kate asked him, her voice a hushed, velvety whisper. "Are you a man of Science – or a man of God?"

"God is a fool," he answered.

Kate could see the fear in him now – he wasn't afraid of her strength – he was barely afraid of what she could do to him. But he was afraid of what she was.

"If you believe in God, do you believe in Hell? Or in angels?"

"I believe in what I can see. What I can touch."

Kate smiled a darkly malicious smile. "Then believe in**_ this_**," all of her pain – the torture – every blow – the fear – the waiting, the endless, endless waiting– the agony when they returned, helplessness...hopelessness...Theheart rending agonyshe'd felt from Catherine, the desperation of a dying woman, denied a single moment to hold her own child...the pain of the man who loved her, watching her die, knowing he'd failed her– and his fear that they would never find the child in time…the onslaught of emotions flooded Gabriel's mind...looped back on itself...over and over and over again – she watched as Gabriel's mind gave way under the weight of it…one crack...two cracks...three...four...he shattered beneath the weight of his own sins...

_In a jungle of the senses  
Tinkerbell and Jack the Ripper  
Love has no meaning, not where they come from  
But we know pleasure is not that simple  
Very little fruit is forbidden  
Sometimes we wobble, sometimes we're strong  
But you know evil is an exact science  
Being carefully correctly wrong _

Priests and cannibals, prehistoric animals  
Everybody happy as the dead come home  
Big Black Nemesis, parthenogenesis  
No one move a muscle as the dead come home

We feel like Greeks, we feel like Romans  
Centaurs and monkeys just cluster round us  
We drink elixirs that we refine  
from the juices of the dying  
We are no monsters, we're moral people  
and yet we have the strength to do this  
This is the splendour of our achievement  
Call in the air strike with a poison kiss

Priests and cannibals, prehistoric animals  
Everybody happy as the dead come home  
Big black nemesis, parthenogenesis  
No-one move a muscle as the dead come home

How bad it gets, you can't imagine  
the burning wax, the breath of reptiles  
god is not mocked, he knows our business  
Karma could take us at any moment  
Cover him up...I think we're finished  
You know it's never been so exotic  
but I don't know, my dreams are visions  
We could still end up with the great big fishes

Priests and cannibals, prehistoric animals  
Everybody happy as the dead come home  
Big black nemesis, parthenogenesis  
No-one move a muscle as the dead come home

Shriekback

-

Police streamed into the mansion, led by Joe Maxwell – it had been hard to convince Catherine to let him go – harder still to assemble a team of men and women he could trust in the little time he knew he had…but here they were, the cavalry.

A dozen men in dark suits – outnumbered by the two dozen cops, froze in their tracks. Fin and Diana froze with them. Neither had been injured, although three men lay dead and another two were injured; the walls were pockmarked with bullet holes.

"Call a paramedic," Joe said to the guys in uniform. "And get the rest of these creeps in hand cuffs." Mostly, he just wanted to get them out of the way – they couldn't be the ones to find the baby. At least not until he knew what exactly the kid looked like…if he was his father's child…

As soon as she and Fin were identified as the good guys, Diana ran up the stairs – she could hear the baby crying – Gabriel was on the ground – his eyes were vacant spheres. Kate was nowhere to be seen, but a big black bird sat on the windowsill. As soon as she entered, it flew away…as if it had been waiting… Diana went to the window, but she could see nothing in the darkness beyond the red and blue lights surrounding the house. Still, she could sense that Kate was out there – watching. Diana wondered if they'd ever see her again…

Fin and Joe were behind her then…Joe stood back, making sure that none of the uniform cops had followed.

Fin lifted the child – he quieted immediately in the big man's arms. "Shhh – there now – you're Mamma and Pop are worried sick about you."

_Pop_, Joe wondered – he had a hard time imagining anyone calling Vincent 'Pop'…. "Is he – ?" Joe asked.

"Perfect," Fin said softly. "Got his daddy's eyes – but his mamma's everything else."

Joe peered over his shoulder, breathing a silent sigh. "Ok – get the kid outa here."

"But –?" Diana asked. "There are going to be questions."

"So what. Go on – both of you. Don't say anything to anyone – take my car," He tossed Diana the keys. "And get that little guy to his folks. As soon as I can, I'll be there."

-

As soon as she'd heard the sirens, Jamie had taken cover in the woods – there would be just a few too many questions if the police found her. Somehow, she never doubted that the right people would find her – although she did wonder what the cops would make of the crossbow bolts through the hearts of several of Gabriel's men…

Jamie stood by the side of the service road – Diana stopped just long enough for her to get in. "He's so beautiful," she smiled back at the child. He was asleep in Fin's arms. "You're so natural with him."

"Got a son of my own – a little older than this guy." And I miss him, Fin thought quietly. He closed his eyes – _God, how long had it been since I slept,_ he wondered. Still, he didn't doze off – just rested while they drove back to the city.

-

"Do you know where Catherine lives?" Jamie asked.

For a second, Diana thought it was a trick question. Then, "You mean her apartment?"

"Does it have a place to leave Joe's car?"

"Sure, but –"

"Then go there. There's an entrance in the basement of her building – they way is a little longer – but it's probably the safest route – Above."

Above. Of course, Diana thought – everywhere Below would be safe for them – but Above, in the city, there was a danger, a threat on every corner. What if someone asked questions about the baby – or if Gabriel still had men loose in the city – or if a well meaning police officer decided that the child looked absolutely nothing like any of the adults – or questioned Jamie's odd mode of dress… "What is that place – where you live? Where did you all come from?" Diana asked her.

Jamie laughed, "We came from Above. Every person has their own story – but we – or our parents – started out up here. One day, something happened and we found out about a place where we could live and be accepted as we were."

"Was that how it was for you?" Fin asked.

"For my parents."

Diana found a parking spot. "How many people live down there?"

"Forty something," she replied. "Most of us live in the main hub – a few live alone, further out."

"Why?"

"We don't question – we just accept. That's what Below is. Acceptance." She got out of the car and was surprised when Fin handed her the baby.

"You go on," he told her softly.

"No – no come with me – Catherine and Vincent will want to see you."

"Fin's right, we shouldn't intrude," Diana found herself strangely reluctant to tread back into the alien environment. It was wonderful – enchanting almost. But it wasn't her world. Vincent was the most incredible man she'd ever experienced – and brief as it had been, being near him could only be described as an experience. But he wasn't a part of her reality. Her reality was up here, with the buildings and the trees. Hers was the world of the here and now – of brick and stone, concrete and closed hearts.

"Are you sure?" Jamie asked.

They both nodded – but they walked her to the elevator and stayed there until they saw that it had hit the basement. "Your car is still way theHell down town," Fin said.

Diana shrugged, "We can call a cab."

"Can I make you dinner – or maybe it's breakfast time already."

Diana laughed, "I'll tell you what – you can, but only if you let me finish cleaning up your place. It's a health hazard."

"You've got a deal."

"Hold up – there's a catch – you have to keep it clean."

"Done."

-

Jamie wasn't the least bit surprised when Catherine, Vincent and Devin met her, directly under Catherine's building.

"Where are the others?" Vincent queried.

"Joe said he'd be here as soon as he could – Fin and Diana were – reluctant to return." She handed the baby over to Catherine.

Although she'd never truly doubted that this moment would come, Catherine couldn't quite believe that it was really happening – she held her son tight for a long, long moment, marveling at every nuisance of his face, while Vincent gazed over her shoulder, mesmerized.The babywas so pale - but with each heartbeat, they could both feel him growing stronger..."Here," Catherine finallyhanded him to Vincent.

Vincent almost stepped back – he'd held a few children – but he'd never dreamed of holding his own... Tenderly, Vincent took the child from her, supporting his weight in his uninjured arm. "I never – imagined – that one human being could be so beautiful," Vincent looked from the child into her eyes. "Or that a thing of such wonder could come, even from you."

-

_Upon a darkened night  
the flame o love was burning in my breast  
And by a lantern bright  
I fled my house while all in quiet rest  
Shrouded by the night  
and by the secret star I quickly fled  
The veil concealed my eyes  
while all within lay quiet as the dead  
Oh night though was my guide  
oh night more loving than the rising sun  
Oh night that joined the lover  
to the beloved one  
transforming each of them into the other  
Upon that misty night  
in secrecy, beyond such mortal sight  
Without a guide or light  
than that which burned so deeply in my heart  
That fire t'was led me on  
and shone more bright than of the midday sun  
To where he waited still  
it was a place where no one else could come  
Within my pounding heart  
which kept itself entirely for him  
He fell into his sleep  
beneath the cedars all my love I gave  
From o'er the fortress walls  
the wind would brush his hair against his brow  
And with its smoothest hand  
caressed my every sense it would allow  
I lost myself to him  
and laid my face upon my lovers breast  
And care and grief grew dim  
as in the mornings mist became the light  
There they dimmed amongst the lilies fair  
there they dimmed amongst the lilies fair_

Loreena McKennit

**-**


	13. Thirteen

**Chapter Thirteen:**

Jerry was sitting in Laura's living room when she walked in. It was almost two o'clock in the morning - she'd been Below, visiting Catherine and the baby. He was so precious – so amazing…it got her thinking about all sorts of things. One of them was the man sitting, looking very worried, in her apartment. "Jerry," she said aloud.

:I was worried. Where were you – do you know what time it is:

She could have been angry – but not tonight. Tonight there was too much joy to be angry.

Jerry watched her face carefully – Laura didn't like to be questioned – but this time she kept smiling. :I love you: she signed.

"I love you too," he replied, a little uneasily.Something was up – and by the look of her, it was something _good_…which wasn'tmaking any sense...all week, Laura had been like this...

Of course everyone was happy to hear about the taking down of a criminal operation as big as this Gabriel's. At the same time,Jerry hadheld out some hope that maybe, just maybe, Catherine Chandler would be found when Gabriel was apprehended. She wasn't – and although they weren't cluing in the general public, the word around the squad was that whatever had happened, Gabriel was little more than a vegetable. He couldn't speak – it didn't seem as if he could comprehend anything happening around him. He could sit up and feed himself – if food was put before him – but otherwise, he just sat and stared...

Things were still being sorted out, charges filed – motions, counter motions – the D.A.'s office was trying to figure out if they even could prosecute the guy, given his current state…and here was Laura, looking happy. At two o'clock in the morning.

:Everything had been a little crazy: Laura told him. :I know I should have told you before now, so you wouldn't worry.:

:So where were you: he asked again.

:Home: she replied.

"Home?" Jerry was so startled he just blurted it out loud.

:Visiting. Catherine had a boy – he's beautiful. She asked me to be the godmother. I said yes. I asked her to be my maid of honour. She said yes.:

Jerry sat, unable to quite move. :What? Catherine Chandler is dead.:

:I told you. Everything is ok. In a few days, Joe Maxwell is going to announce it that they found her.:

:Laura – I – I don't know whether to laugh or cry – I don't understand.:

:She stayed in hiding until Gabriel was caught.:

:The M.E. –:

:Was wrong. It's ok. I told you. Everything is ok. But now I have something else to tell you. And you need to listen with an open heart: she touched his chest lightly.

:I'm listening.:

:I was home tonight – where I grew up. With people who love me – the people I love. I know what you think about where I grew up and you're wrong. I didn't mean to deceive you – it was just easier to let you believe what you wanted to. But now you need to know the truth – but you need to understand that the truth is a secret.:

:What kind of secret – I don't understand.:

:I know. I can show you. I talked it over with Father.:

:You told me your parents were dead.: Jerry felt resentment – how many other lies had she told?

:Not my father. _Father._: She spelled it out, like a proper name. :I was going to ask last year, before Catherine disappeared – but everything was so sad then – everyone was so afraid. I didn't want to bring you into that part of my life when it was like that.:

:Don't you know that I'll always be there for you, even when things are bad:

:Of course I do. But I didn't want you to see it like it was – I want you to see it the way it usually is.:

:The way what usually is:

:Where I grew up. The people I love. Tomorrow night, Vincent and Catherine are Naming their son. Will you come:

"Naming – what? Who's Vincent?"

She smiled. :Just say you'll come. Then you'll see.:

Helpless in the face of what seemed like no logic at all, Jerry nodded, "I'll come," he said aloud. :But only if you promise it will really make sense.:

Laura gave a shy look, but refused to make any such promises…

-

-

Night had fallen – velvet darkness, hushed and still. On silent feet, Fin approached the girl – clad once more in black, in leather and velvet and lace – standing over the grave. In the tree, a crow perched – it squawked and ruffled its feathers at him, in greeting. Someone, miraculously, had noticed and filled it in. If anyone thought anything of the empty coffin, no one had said anything. Fin stole up to the girl; he put one hand on her shoulders, and with the other handed her a rose – it was white.

Tenderly, Kate took the flower from him – she had dressed not for him, but for her funeral – a dress. An honest to god dress – she'd done her hair and her make up – painted her nails and lips blood red, her eyes painted dark – her skin left to it's own natural colour rather than the cold palour of Death. She was ready to move on – ready to quietly return…and yet here she remained.

"I don't understand," she said softly. He said nothing – but he held her in his warmth...

_Heaven comes to he who waits  
But I know I'm getting nowhere  
And all the deeds of yesterday  
Have really helped to pave my way  
Though there's no one near me now  
How come everyone can touch me  
You see the torture on my brow  
Relates to neither here nor now  
Watch me bleed  
Bleed forever  
Although my face is straight, it lies  
My body feels the Pain and cries  
Here the table is not bare  
I am full but feeling empty  
For all the warmth it feels so cold  
For one so young I feel so old  
Watch me bleed  
Bleed forever  
It's not allowed to be unkind  
But still the hate lives in my mind  
I'll make no noise  
I'll hide my pain  
I'll close my eyes  
I won't complain  
I'll lie right back and take the blame  
And try to tell myself I'm living  
And when it's all been said or done  
Where do I go ?  
Where do I run ?  
What's left of me or anyone when we've denied the hurting?_

Tears for Fears

-

"He told you he'd always be there for you," Fin said after a long while of comfortable silence had passed between them. "He broke that promise."

"I can't forgive him. Not ever. I loved him – I honestly truly loved him with all my heart and I trusted him the way a girl should be able to trust her big brother. He betrayed me – he betrayed everything. And for what?"

"I don't know. It must have made sense to him at the time."

"He could never tell me why," she turned to face Fin. Gently, with warm, living fingers, he wiped the icy tears from her cold cheeks. "I talked to him – before I came back – he never could tell me why. He was still more worried about his girlfriend than me. He cared more about her than me _– I'm his sister!"_

Fin held her while she sobbed – bitter tears – angry tears. He felt his own tears flowing and didn't even know what he was crying for – for her? For himself? For the atrocities that he saw every day around him?

"I don't know what to do – where to go – how to get there. I don't know who I am – _what_ I am," Kate held tight to Fin's warmth. "I'm not alive, I'm not dead – I'm wandering in limbo – I did everything I was supposed to do – and they still won't take me back!"

"I know one place you can go," he said gently. "One group of people who will take you."

"Below. They're as scared of me as everybody."

He tilted her chin up so that she could see him – he smiled, "Do I look scared of you?"

"You're too stupid to be scared," Kate smiled.

He laughed, "I know a lot of people who would agree to that. Come on – I'm sure that there are at least three people Below who would like to see you, tonight of all nights."

"What's tonight?"

"Something called a Naming Ceremony – sounds kind of like a Baptism without the dunking or collection plate passing."

Kate laughed, despite herself. "Maybe – maybe I can go there for a little while. If you're coming?"

"Diana said she'd wait for me by the park entrance." He put his arm around Kate's slender shoulders and guided her out of the cemetery – for all that she was, she was still, underneath it, a child, fragile in the way that all little girls were. No matter that the flesh was impervious to harm – her heart would always be vulnerable.

The crow took to wing and flew overhead…

-

"So – what's the story with you two?" Kate asked as they neared the park.

"No story. She's got a boy friend and I'm still married. At least until the paperwork goes through."

"She doesn't love him."

"What?"

"Diana – she doesn't love her boyfriend."

"How do you know?"

"I feel things – I see things. I think it's part of whatever I am. I think she likes you. I think you like her."

"Maybe. But for now we're friends."

"Friends is a good place to start," Kate smiled.

Fin laughed, "Good to know you approve."

She laughed with him – it felt good to laugh…

-

Jerry looked around as Laura led him down the street – he'd expected to drive, not walk… not only were they only going a few blocks, but now she was walking up to a bake shop – that was closed. Laura rapped on the door sharply.

:Laura: he questioned. He was dressed in a suit and tie – nothing fancy, not on a cop's salary – but it was good enough for church, so it should be good enough for a Naming, whatever that meant. She was well dressed too – a pretty little vintage dress she'd picked up from some resale shop – and flat soled boots. Not exactly your typical going out attire – but Laura had her own sense of fashion. She was also carrying a small package wrapped in plain paper. When he asked, she only said that it was for the baby – and when he asked the baby's name, so he could write it on the card he'd picked up she just rolled her eyes and said that no one knew yet. That's what the Naming Ceremony was for…of course, how foolish of him… :I think they're closed: Jerry said. She was waiting patiently.

A moment later the door opened – Jerry recognized the proprietor, Earl Lapinski– Laura bought bagels from him every morning. Mr. Lapinski, a man in his twilight years with thinning grey hair, bushy eyebrows, and thick glasses, looked as if he was dressed for a night on the town, in a light blue suit, neatly pressed shirt and tie. "Laura! I was beginning to think you'd never get here!" He smiled an amicable smile.

"Jerry was running late," Laura said aloud.

Earl chuckled:Well come on then: he signed. :You know how Jacob gets when things run too far behind.: "Come on then," He said aloud to Jerry. "Don't just stand there gathering wool – let's got a move on." He ushered them in and locked the door behind them.

"Get a move on?" Jerry looked at the locked door.

"Yes indeed – you're a strong boy, take this, will you?" He handed Jerry a heavily laden plate of cookies and cakes. "The children love my gingerbread men," he said with pride. He was also carrying a small, plainly wrapped package – presumably a gift for the as yet unnamed baby…Jerry continued to wonder just what sort of prank they were playing on him as Earl lead the way into the stock room…then down a creaking stair into the basement…

"Jerry – get the light behind you, will you son? Electric bills keep going up – mind your head on the way down, though. Here we are," he shoved the empty boxes away from the trap door.

"Ahh – what ?" Jerry felt more confused with each passing moment.

"Once upon a time," Earl began, "I had a good friend – he was a doctor. He didn't much care for the way folks treated one another – and when he spoke out about it, he got himself in a world of trouble. So, he and some other folks decided to do something about it. They went away. I had lots of reasons not to go away – so me an' some other folks who had reasons not to go away stayed behind. We Help out from time to time. Now – watch your footing going down – this old stair is stronger than it looks, but the steps are mighty narrow," he led the way down the second, winding spiral staircase into the Tunnels Below.

"Where – are we?" Jerry asked.

:Home.: Laura signed.

_Home...?_ He looked around – dirt – stone – a damp chill in the air – and yet she seemed to know exactly where she was going. Up ahead, he saw someone – standing. Waiting. Laura ran up to him – Jerry recognized him as the guy she'd sent him to when he needed a tailor – Trevor? That was it.

"I though you'd never get her – I sent Shell on ahead to let them know we were on our way – you know we have to get all the way to the Great Hall."

Laura nodded. "Sorry," she gave Jerry another look.

"What – I said I was sorry," he had no choice but to speak – carrying the tray, it was impossible to sign.

Trevor Wilson chuckled, "No worries – with so many people coming, someone else is bound to be later than we are. I don't suppose you have any idea what they're calling him?" he turned to face Laura.

She shook her head. :No idea.:

"But you're the god mother."

:That doesn't mean they have to tell me: Laura smiled.

"What's that tapping," Jerry finally asked. They'd gone almost a mile, he was sure – and picked up another pair along the way, Juta Cornado and Jameson Parker.

"Pascal on the pipes," Jameson answered. "He won't leave until the last minute – then he'll be the first one to leave the party to get back to his pipes. No wonder that boy ain't never married," the old black man chuckled.

Juta shook her head, "Be kind – he's just devoted."

"Obsessed," Jameson opined, with a wry grin and chuckle.

"Where exactly are we?" Jerry asked again.

"Home," Juta answered simply. They were just to the main hub – she could hear the voices of a few stragglers – probably those helping in the kitchen, preparing the feast. "You go on – I'll see if Martha needs any help in the kitchen."

The others nodded – Jerry followed along helplessly – around him were the artifacts of life. Nothing elaborate – but he could tell that this was a place where people lived – and apparently where they grew up. But there were still questions… Laura heaved the tray out of his hands and gave it to a young man passing by.

"Gee, thanks," Zach gave her a good-natured grimace.

:You're welcome. Carry this for Mr. Lapinski – I have to see Catherine and Vincent.:

"Does this mean we get to start soon? I've been smelling Mary's raspberry tarts all evening!" as if on cue, his stomach rumbled.

Laura laughed, sending the boy and two older men on their way – she guided Jerry down one of the corridors off the main area. :I grew up down that way: she pointed to another corridor. :When I was little, I shared a room with three other girls – one of them was Juta – she moved Above a few years before I did. Another one was Jamie – you'll meet her later. Right now, I want you to meet Vincent. There are things you need to understand first, though.:

:What kind of things:

:Down here we look at people differently – from the inside out. I was never shunned because I am deaf. No one ever made fun of me or treated me any differently. They taught me to be fearless – and how to love with an open heart. You have to keep an open heart. Here we are: she stopped in front of a door way. "Vincent! Catherine!" She called aloud. "I brought Jerry."

Catherine Chandler appeared a few moments later; she wore a long cream, knit dress with a thick sweater over it. She looked – radiant. Alive. Certainly not as if she'd just gone through some harrowing experience at the hands of a madman… "Miss Chandler – I don't know if you remember me…"

"Of course I remember you, Jerry. I only wish I'd gotten the chance to know you better – the past six months not withstanding of course," she continued to smile. "Joe just headed down to the Great Hall and I was about to send Elliot down," she stepped aside – giving Jerry and Laura just a slight glance.

Laura nodded :I prepared him as best as I could.:

Jerry stepped into the chamber – it was like something out of a Dickens novel…then his gaze found the two men at the centre of it…Burch he knew, at least by reputation (although his reputation didn't suggest that he was the sort of man to be holding a baby – at least not while looking as if he was enjoying the experience)…the other had to be Vincent… an open heart, Jerry reminded himself… Laura took his hand and guided him over to the man… :Vincent: she said:This is Jerry. Jerry – Vincent. The man who taught me not to be afraid of the dark when I was a little girl and showed me how to listen with my hands.:

"I'm – very pleased to meet you," Jerry held out his hand. Fearless – that was the one quality in Laura he'd admired from the start…he only hoped he was doing a good job of emulating it now.

"Likewise," Vincent said in a silken voice. "This is Elliot Burch, a friend of mine and Catherine's. Elliot – this is Laura Williams and her fiancé, Jerry Callahan." He signed as he spoke. "Laura is going to be our son's godmother."

"It's pleasure to meet you both," Elliot smiled – he'd guessed upon hearing the young woman's voice that she was deaf.

"Nice to meet you too," Laura said aloud. She signed something to Vincent – who nodded and signed back. Elliot wondered how many people down here could sign – he guessed that it must be almost everyone... and put it on his mental list of things to learn. That list seemed to be getting longer every day.

Gently, Catherine took the baby from his arms, "You should head down – we'll be there in just a few minutes."

"All right," Elliot leaned in and kissed her cheek, continually amazed that she didn't draw away from him – after all he'd done, an ordinary woman would have hated him…

Catherine smiled. "And thank you."

"I didn't do anything." Elliot eased himself up from the chair carefully – the leg was still sore, though his doctor was amazed at how well he was recovering. He had decided not to mention the tea Mary had sent him home with. It didn't dull the pain like prescription pain killers would have – but the benefit seemed to be that he was recovering faster.

:We'll walk with him: Laura said, taking Jerry by the arm. "So you two can have a few moments alone," she added aloud. Alone was one thing they were getting very little of – and Laura knew that she was just as bad as everyone else. Since neither Vincent or Catherine seemed to mind, everyone kept taking advantage of the fact that they were still welcoming company – but eventually, she knew they'd want privacy. Maybe giving them a little now would stave that moment off, just little while longer. Like everyone, Laura was grateful to have both Catherine and the baby back.

"Thank you," Vincent signed as well as spoke. He gazed again upon mother and child, continually amazed at the miracle of life – of what his life had become.

Catherine smiled up at him, her head cocked to one side in questioning. "What is it?"

"There are many things that we have not yet discussed, Catherine."

"I know. And I know that they cannot be put off forever."

"I know how you feel about your job – that it is so much more than just a job to you."

"You must also know how I feel about you – about him," she gazed down at the sleeping child – he was just starting to stir. She'd hoped he would – he usually woke up hungry and she wanted to sneak in one more feeding and diaper change before the Ceremony. Catherine settled herself into the rocking chair – and was relieved to have Vincent's assistance in adjusting the layers of clothing that kept her warm. Still – he seemed to look away from her body as if he was shy of her – much the way he'd been acting, despite their sharing the same bed. Even that had been awkward at first – neither was used to sleeping with another – then Elliot – it seemed to get worse after he left them, as if they no longer had an excuse to feel politely awkward around one another at night, even if neither was in any condition to actually _do_ anything about being alone in the same bed. Peter had warned her that it could be six to eight weeks before her body was well enough from giving birth to truly be 'normal' – although he'd courteously left it at that, asking her to come into his office in about a month for a follow up. And although Vincent's wounds were much better, Father had warned him against any 'strenuous' activity with that same flushed expression that Peter had had, when discussing 'normal' with Catherine.

Vincent sat on the ottoman at her feet. "I do know how you feel about us. But there is still much to – discuss."

"There will be time," she said at last. Catherine could tell that even though he was the one who had brought it up, he was relieved that she was just as happy to put it off. Again… 'It' wasn't even the most pressing of topics – there were other whispers… everyone wondered if there was a marriage in the future, even though no one had come right out and asked. Mary had come the closest in suggesting that perhaps Catherine might her help in working on a new dress – something in white? No matter that it wasn't applicable – no one would mind, surely… then Heather had suggested that Catherine might look good in red... it was an old tradition, she said coyly – a woman in red and a man in green on that special day…Lin, who was visiting that day as well, mentioned that red was the traditional colour for a woman in China, too – although the groom didn't wear green…blessedly, the baby had chosen just that moment to get fussy, giving both his parents a way out of further discussions regarding wedding traditions from around the world…

Catherine gazed at the infant as he suckled – he was growing stronger with each day – it was likely that he would be more like his father than appearances suggested. Another concern, which Father had clearly expressed. Not a worry, per se – except that the child's place would probably always be Below…she hummed softly, her mother's lullaby – she was as transfixed as Vincent by the miracle of his existence. Tomorrow, Catherine mused, would take care of itself, because in this moment all that mattered was this moment.

"We should go," Vincent said softly. "Everyone will be waiting."

"I know. But it's nice to have these few moments alone," she met his gaze – those beautiful, blue eyes, so filled with emotion – in that moment she realized that she and the baby were truly the centre of his universe – and the love she felt from him outweighed all her doubts about everything else…

Leaning in, Vincent pressed his mouth to hers, taking every joy in the sweetness that he found there. How afraid he had been the first time they had kissed – the fear was still him him, a little – not of rejection, she'd proven her love in a way that he'd never expected any woman to – but there was still so much left unspoken between them…

Catherine reached up with her free hand and drew him closer to her – this was the first time they had truly kissed since her return, neither quite knowing how to initiate anything resembling intimacy… She held him tightly with one hand, her tongue seeking out the passion she had felt only once, in the heat of great rage and fear – her own fear was that true passion would never return, that it was tied inexorably with those other, darker emotions… But it was still there, she realized – he was timid for only a moment…the she felt the fire of his delight all the way down to the soles of her feet…

"I love you," she whispered as he finally drew back from her…if one kiss could make her feel like that, Catherine wondered what was the rest of their physical relationship going to be like…? The one time – it had been so full of other things – his fear had been overwhelming – when it was over he'd been disoriented – afraid – then without memory of ever having touched her…

"I will always be here for you – waiting," Vincent assured her softly.

Coming from any other man, she might not have understood – but he knew – they both knew – that her life would continue to be divided between two worlds…and he would always be her anchor.


	14. Fourteen

**Chapter Fourteen:**

Jacob wells looked over the many friends who had assembled in the Great Hall. It was unusual for a Naming Ceremony to take place here – but it had been Vincent's request and although Jacob had always been hard pressed to deny his son, this request was especially important. _Just six days ago, _Vincent said, _everyone huddled there in fear, as an evil man threatened out community. How fitting would it be to gather there again, in joyous triumph over the Darkness which threatened us – and which we defeated. _How fitting indeed.

Mary smiled at him – around her the children gathered, listening to her tell a story. They were never quite as enraptured as they were when Father was telling one – but Mary was a fair substitute.

He saw Lin and Henry Pei, who had come down from China Town with their four month old, girl, Rose Catherine. When Rose had been Named, there had been so much sorrow amongst the joy – a new life had come to them, but would an old friend ever return? Now, watching them – watching everyone – he saw only joy. Lin smiled to him and nodded from across the room – it was as if every Helper in the city had come down to share in the moment – everyone had been a part of the search in one way or another – and everyone wanted to welcome Catherine and the child… Father only wished that he knew more of what she and Vincent were planning. The had successfully dodged every attempt to glean information…

Laura came in with her gentleman and made brief introductions – then she pulled him off to subject the poor boy to a bevy of her childhood friends – ah well, it must be difficult for any young man, to meet his girlfriend's family for the first time…Jacob wondered absently what Catherine's father might have made of her choices…

Peter Alcott meandered over to Jacob, saying his hellos to friends as he wandered through the room. "Catherine and Vincent still not here yet?"

Jacob merely smiled. "I believe that they are enjoying a rare quiet moment, as I'm afraid we have granted them very little peace in the past week."

Peter chuckled. Then, "Any idea what they're calling the little tyke?"

"Not so much as a hint," the tone of his voice was softened by the twinkle of merriment in his eyes. Truthfully, Jacob could care less what they named their son – what mattered was that he was alive and well and safe.

"Any idea what their future plans are? Is she planning on returning to any part of her life Above?"

"If she's made any decisions, they haven't been shared it with me."

"Or me," Joe elbowed his way through to join them, earthenware mug of fresh berry punch in hand.

"You want her to come back to work for you, don't you?" Jacob wondered, concerned.

"Truthfully, Doc – I'd rather she just retired quietly down here to live happily ever after. Only problem is that I don't see Cathy doing that."

"In that at least, we agree," Jacob nodded.

"Congratulations on your promotion," Peter said to Joe, "Circumstances not withstanding, you'll make an excellent District Attorney."

"It's only temporary – and I've still got Nora Lewin in my office."

"I know Nora – at least in passing," Peter said. "She's always seemed like she was a lot stronger than she liked to let on."

"Yeah, I get that from her too. Elliot," Joe smiled as he wandered over – he'd finally gotten the hang of the cane. Joe never would have thought he'd see that day that he'd consider Elliot Burch a friend. But here they were. Friends. They shared a brief, warm embrace.

"How's the leg?" Peter queried.

"I start physical therapy next week."

"Hey, look what the cat just dragged in," Joe nodded towards the doors; Diana and Fin made their way into the chamber. Kate walked in just behind them and was immediately set upon by Jamie.

"You're still here!" Jamie engulfed Kate in a huge hug.

"I'm still here," Kate agreed, accepting the girl's hug with a great deal of confusion. She hadn't really expected a whole lot of warmth, even from Jamie. She'd done was she was supposed to do – she shouldn't be back… she shouldn't have come, really…but Fin could be damned convincing… and maybe he was right. When she searched Jamie's face, all she saw was warmth and a little concern – not fear – just…

"Is everything ok – I mean – I though you were supposed to go back – to wherever."

"Yeah. Me too. Can we not talk about it?"

Jamie just smiled, nodding; then she took Kate by the arm and hauled her over to the people she'd been talking to. "This is Laura – and Jerry, her fiancé."

Jerry gave the young woman a weary handshake – Laura, he noticed, accepted her without question. This place, she had said, was about acceptance…

"Laura doesn't hear," Jamie was explaining to Kate, "But she can read lips and she's learning to talk." Something that continued to amaze her – how a deaf person could learn to make sounds that others could understand…

Kate nodded, making sure that she was facing Laura when she spoke, "It's nice to met you – you're a Helper?"

"Yes. I grew up here," Laura replied.

Joe waved Fin and Diana over; they seemed a little uncertain of themselves, even as Devin pressed mugs of punch into their hands. Joe didn't exactly blame them – even after spending a couple hours almost every day for the last week down here, he still felt a little like a stranger in a strange land…

"Catherine and Vincent are coming!" Samantha yelled; the chatter slowly died down – everyone parted so that they could come to the centre of the room.

-

"A new life has come into our community," Jacob began as Catherine and Vincent joined him – she handed him the child. Dear god, but he was spectacular! "And he has not come alone – for this new life – my own son's son – has brought with him strangers who have become friends. Joe Maxwell – Elliot Burch – Fin Tutuola – Diana Bennett," he acknowledged them each in turn – the latter two having had no idea that they would be mentioned, seemed to want to dive for cover as their names were spoken – Joe managed to keep them from running. Jacob scanned the room, finding the face he sought; "And a very special young woman, Kate Zito," he held his hand out to her – she smiled and nodded shyly in acknowledgement. "Without their courage and conviction, we might not have this new life – and surely we would not have Catherine's," he nodded again to Kate, his mistrust of her finally having ebbed. What she was did not matter – she had brought Catherine back to them – she had brought the child back to them. And she had visited a terrible punishment on the man who had tried to take them away. "They were not alone," Jacob went on. "Jamie ventured out into the world Above to help them – and you all did everything you could, praying, searching, hoping when there seemed no reason to hope – and through it all, we have a miracle. A new life amongst us – a dear friend returned," he gazed fondly upon Catherine – she met his gaze and smiled; Vincent squeezed her hand. Jacob looked at the child that he held, wondering what this child's future would bring them... "We welcome the child with gifts, that he may know generosity," he said at last. A table had already been piled with tokens – from the beautiful cradle made by Cullen, to the hanging 'gizmo' from Mouse that played music when you wound it up, a knitted cap from Mary – and everything else that a baby might need or his parents could want for him. "We welcome him with love, that his heart will always know warmth – and we welcome him with a name," he looked to his son.

"His name is Jacob Elliot," Vincent said, loudly enough for all to hear – by his father's expression, he could tell that it must be as much of a shock as it was to Elliot.

"Congratulations," Joe whispered to Elliot.

"You – knew?"

"Course I knew – but I claimed dibs on Joseph for the next Chandler-Wells kid," he chuckled softly. Around them, there was laughter and clapping – oohs and ahhs of approval – and continued whisperings of the possibilities of marriage…

"Although it is traditional for there to be a god mother and god father," Catherine began – everyone settled down for her. "Vincent and I decided that we _couldn't_ decide on a single god father, because both candidates risked so much for us – and for Jacob."

"Joe, Elliot, would you consent to sharing the responsibilities of being god fathers to our son?" Vincent asked.

They looked at one another, each having assumed that the other would be the only one asked. "I can't think of anyone I'd rather share it with," Joe spoke up first, a broad grin forming on his face as he placed his hand on Elliot's shoulder.

Elliot was more timid, having to force the lump from his throat before he could make himself speak. "I would be honoured – if you're really sure you want me to – take on such an incredible responsibility."

"We're the ones who are honoured, Elliot," Vincent told him. "You – both of you – risked so much for us. For him."

"Laura," Catherine held out her hand to her friend; she began signing as she spoke. "Would you do us the honour of taking on the responsibility of being Jacob's godmother?"

"It would be my pleasure," She spoke and signed at the same time. Then, just signing:Even if it means putting up with those two:

Several people laughed – Joe and Elliot looked at one another. "Do you know what she said?" Joe asked first.

"No – but I've already put sign language on my list of things to learn."

"Sign language – Morse code – Radcliff, you sure do keep me on my toes!" Joe looked at her, still grinning.

Catherine smiled, "Speaking of which – can I steal you away for a few minutes?" Around them, the feasting had begun and socializing resumed – everyone it seemed was claiming a turn at holding Jacob Elliot – Catherine looked around the huge chamber for a moment more – friends. People who had once been total strangers had become her greatest friends…her family.

Vincent made his way towards Fin and Diana, "Thank you for coming."

"Thank you for inviting us," Diana said, a little shyly. Something about him still fascinated her – and intimidated her at the same time. "I was surprised to be invited."

"Why would you not have been invited?" Vincent asked.

"It just seemed like – it would be private," she said, a little unsure of why she felt as if she shouldn't be here – yet glad that she was.

"You were – both of you – instrumental in Jacob's return to us. I am forever in your debt," he let his gaze fall to both of them. "You will _always_ be welcome here."

"I'm just glad it all worked out," Fin held out his hand – and was rewarded by the warmth of the other's grip. "This is one amazing place you guys got. It's an honour to be a part of it."

"It is," Diana affirmed.

-

Joe followed Cathy out into the corridor and into a quiet alcove. "So?"

"So – I was wondering what exactly the District Attorney's maternity leave policy was? I realize that I've already been away six months –"

"Under a hell of an extenuating circumstance!" Joe told her. Then, "You really wanna come back? After everything you've been through? How does Vincent feel about that?"

"He knew I'd be returning before I knew it myself. I know I want to spend some more time here – but I want to come back. This will be my home – but a part of me will always belong to the world Above."

"You really are some kind of amazing, Radcliff. You just let me know when you're ready and you can come back."

She smiled, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "Give me a couple of months – don't worry, you'll see me before that!" She assured him – when she'd said a couple of month's Joe's face practically fell right off. "You know where I live and you can visit any time."

"I didn't want to abuse the privilege. I'm sure you guys want some time to settle in – say, is there going to be a wedding or something – what?"

She laughed then, sorry she'd given him such a sour look. "That's one of the things Vincent and I need some time to think about – and having some time alone will help. We were only – together – once. It's been strange, suddenly calling the same chamber home."

"I guess I never thought about it that way. Is everything ok?"

"In almost ever respect, everything is perfect. I've enjoyed waking up next to him more than I ever thought I could enjoy waking up with someone – and falling asleep in his arms is just as wonderful – but sometimes the in between is a little awkward. We've both taken advantage of the fact that we've had so little time to ourselves that we haven't really had to deal with being – together. Not that kind of together," she smiled, at his expression, "Just – the normal stuff. We've had Jacob to occupy our time – so we both keep putting off certain things – things we know we need to talk about but aren't ready to."

"But you're happy, right?"

She just smiled – it was all the answer Joe really needed – he could see in her eyes how happy she was.

"Ok," he said, "You let me know if you need anything – and let me know how you want to handle everything up top. You don't have to do anything before you're ready."

"I want to call Jenny before anything gets to the papers about me being alive – she doesn't deserve to hear it that way."

"Want me to – prepare her a little? I mean – it was a real shock for me, to find out from Elliot that you were still alive. I had to see you to believe it. Calling someone out of the blue might shock them." Calling Jenny out of the blue…Joe had only met her a couple of times… flake was perhaps the kindest way to describe Catherine's best friend…

Catherine thought about Jenny Aronson's particular personality quirks and smiled, "I'll get you a list of people I'd like you to call. If you don't mind."

"Like I said, you need anything, you just say the word."

"Thanks, Joe. You are truly one of the best friends I've ever had. I want you to know how much that means to me – to both of us."

He shrugged, "Just you remember that when the next little Chandler-Wells baby comes out. I expect to get a middle name at least."

"Even if it's a girl?"

"Josephine – nah, I think I'll wait for a boy."

-

"Hey," Fin found Diana standing against the wall staring out at the party – an older gentleman had up a lively tune on a fiddle – moments later he'd been joined by a pair of guitars, a banjo, a sitar, another fiddle, a woman with accordion, and another with Irish bagpipes and a girl with a wide drum (a boron.) Two more drummers joined the group – people were already twirling round the make-shift dance floor in the centre of the room.

Diana looked up at him, "Hey, yourself. Not the way I ever imagined spending a Saturday night – you?"

He laughed, "No, not really. Can't say that there's anything I'd rather be doing, though."

"Me neither."

The 'band' slowed their melody. "You dance?" Fin asked.

"A little," she allowed him to escort her to the centre of the room.

-

Fin looked down at Diana, studying her for a long moment as they danced their third slow song together. She looked exceptionally beautiful in a simple dress of green velvet. He told her as much – she smiled a little and put her head on his chest, leaning comfortably into his strength – _what am I doing_, Fin wondered…he saw Vincent and Catherine – two people obviously made for each other and wondered if there really was such a thing as soul mates.

"I should go," Diana whispered, as the tune died away.

"Want me to walk out with you?"

"Sure."

-

"Nice night," Fin observed, as they hit the park. Without quite thinking about it, he found his arm over her shoulder; she didn't seem to mind and they walked that way for a long while, simply enjoying the night air and the comfortable silence of the other's company.

"It is. Look – Fin –" Diana began as they reached the street.

"Shh. Don't say it. I know there's nothin' between us," he dropped his arm from her - it had been nice, but nice things never seemed to last for him.

"It's not that – not exactly. I – we're both coming out of relationships – I split up with Mark," she told him. "I don't know if I understand why I did it – I just did. Anyway – if there ever is going to be anything between us, I want it to have a real chance. I don't want to have some sort of rebound relationship."

He leaned in and kissed her cheek – it was impulsive – but she didn't resist. "Sounds reasonable to me. Call me some time."

"I will," Diana told him. She watched him walk away – and knew that she wasn't going to call him any time soon. She just wasn't ready…

Walking back to her car, Diana looked up at the moon – she thought about Mark. He'd been shocked when she ended it – she thought about poetry and about roses – and wondered…instead of driving straight home, Diana drove to Catherine's apartment and let herself in – she still had a key from her investigation. She didn't feel like an interloper – she had only one reason for being here.

Diana watered the rose bush, and with careful, loving hands, trimmed the dead flowers and leaves. Vincent – there was no other man like him in all the world…

-

"Are you sure you won't stay?" Vincent asked Kate as she attempted to slip out, unnoticed.

"No – but thank you."

"There is someone you should see, before you go," he told her. "She may be of some help to you."

Kate had a hard time not frowning – how could anyone help her?

"Catherine – do you mind?"

"Go – I'll be waiting up for you," she smiled, and leaned up to kiss his cheek. Then she hugged Kate. "Thank you again, for everything."

"I'm just sorry I didn't bring anything for the baby."

"But you did," Vincent told her, "You brought yourself – your gift is your presence here and that is all that we could ever ask of you."

-

"Where are we going?" Kate queried after a while – he steered them well away from the main hub of the Tunnels.

"A woman lives down here – her eyes are blind, and yet she seems many things…"

Narcissa, of course, was expecting them. She shooed Vincent back to Catherine and took Kate by the hand. "Oh yes. I've been expecting you for quite some time…" she told the girl with a broad grin. "There is much we need to discuss..."

-

**Epilogue Loose Ends **

Lugging two suitcases – he'd left California with only one – Devin stumbled up to the front door of the townhouse he seemed to remember calling home. It wasn't much, two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living room, a kitchen, dining room and laundry room – it served it's purpose for two bachelors, one from beyond the stars, the other from a hole underneath New York City…

The hour was early, almost seven a.m. – so he was quite surprised to find a Tenctonese man, who wasn't his housemate, sitting on the sofa.

"Oh!" The man stood up, "Here – can I help you – you must be Devin."

"And you're Robbie?" Devin queried – Jonathon had written him a month ago asking if he could rent out space to a friend of his who needed a place, temporarily. "I know I'm home early – don't sweat it – worry about it. I'm perfectly happy crashing on the couch." He'd written back telling Jonathon to go right ahead and rent out his room – he was sure his housemate needed the money. Of course Jonathon assured him that it was all temporary…for three pages…they named him right when they called him John Hancock, that was for sure, the guy loved to write…

"No, no, I'm here to see Robbie – I take cello lessons. My name is Sam, Sam Hill."

_Sam Hill_…Devin managed not to groan. Some of these guys had gotten stuck with some pretty awful names…

"I'm Robbie," said the woman – the very human woman with rich caramel coloured skin and long curly black hair. "That would be short for Roberta," she added to his bemused look. "So you're the infamous Devin – I was almost beginning to think that you were nothing but a figment of Jonathon's imagination."

"No – no, I'm real," Devin stammered. Wow. He sighed. His brother got all the hot babes – Jonathon, it appeared, got all the hot babes – what was an average human male to do?

"I thought you weren't due back until tomorrow," Robbie asked.

"I wasn't – but – I caught the red eye – Hudson Bay is nice, but I missed the Pacific. I hope – I mean – I don't want you to feel like you have to rush or anything – I can take the sofa for a couple of nights."

"You're right. You can," she favoured Devin with a wry grin…

-

After contacting Jenny and a handfull of Catherine's other friends – who all took the news with as much shock as he himself had – Joe issued the statement to the press that Catherine Chandler had been found alive and well – but was recovering in a private facility after being held hostage by Gabriel for six months. Beyond that, he had a very firm 'no comment' on anything other than to say that he wished her a speedy recovery. When anyone at the office pressed him for details, he repeated the same story – she was alive, she was well, she was recovering and preferred not to have visitors at this time, but he would gladly convey any messages, cards, etc. And yes, she had a baby – it was a boy.

Although he saw Jenny from time to time for lunch, he was careful not to reveal too much – just that Cathy was alive and well and recovering. Jenny's main concern had been Cathy's treatment at Gabriel's hands – about which, Joe told her the truth. He'd kept her healthy and well until he had what he wanted, then he left her for dead. She was found – and a week later, so was the baby… when Cathy was ready to see people, she'd let him know…

-

Catherine stepped into her apartment for the first time in over six months. No one had wanted her to come alone – Vincent was waiting on the balcony, of course. He couldn't come up the stairs and she couldn't come up the side of the building – but he wouldn't let her Above alone. Not yet. She smiled and let him in. "Vincent – you haven't been away from my side for more than an hour," she remarked – their rose bush, a thing she had expected to find withered and dead – was alive and had two perfect, full blooms, one white and one red.

"I have not – and I have not been here since I found you." He'd felt a little guilty when he realized he'd neglected the rose bush for several weeks – but having her home…

Catherine knelt and smelled the roses. She smiled, then as she stood, an idea forming….

Catherine picked up the phone and dialed...

-

"Hello?"

"Good evening, Mr. Maxwell," She grinned – behind her Vincent chuckled, imagining Joe's reaction.

"Radcliff – where are you? Is everything ok?"

"Everything is fine, Joe – Vincent and I came by my apartment to pick up a few things. Do you know where Diana Bennett lives?"

"Yeah – why?"

"We'd like to give her something," she felt Vincent's hand on her shoulder and wrapped hers around it.

"You want me to take it over for you?"

"No – we will."

"I will," Vincent said softly.

Catherine nodded – there were times when even she knew not to bother trying to argue with him.

"Sure – hang on a sec – let me find the address – so – does this mean –?"

"I'm keeping the apartment for appearances," Catherine told him. "And I'll be back in the office in a few weeks."

"Ok – here goes – ready?"

Catherine had already found pen and paper. After she had the address, she asked, "We haven't seen you in a while – is everything all right?"

"Just swamped. I'll try to make it down over the weekend. I missed the hell outa you while you were gone, Radcliff, I hope you know that."

"I do. Thank you."

"Yeah well – "

Catherine smiled and wished him a good night before he had the chance to say something embarrassing... Joe was very good at putting his foot in his mouth...

Before going to her bedroom to pack a few things, Catherine wrote a short note for Diana.

-

"Vincent!" Diana was aware of his presence almost before she saw him – her sixth sense kicking in. She went up to the rooftop to find him there – with a rose bush.

"Catherine and I wanted you to have this," he told her.

"Vincent – I couldn't possibly accept," she blushed wondering if they realized she'd been taking care of it – going into Catherine's apartment…

"We cannot keep it Below – and we would like very much for you to continue caring for it."

"I – I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For invading her privacy – her apartment."

"Diana – you did not invade anything – you are _always_ welcome in her home –and in ours. You are a part of our hearts – and a part of our world. We hope that you will never forget that."

"I'll always be here if you need me, Vincent – but I'm not sure I can be a part of your world."

"Why not?"

She smiled – he was still the most incredible man she'd ever seen. Suddenly – she realized that he understood – she turned away and was surprised to feel his hands on her shoulders. "Vincent –?" She wanted to tell him 'don't' – to tell him to go away…but she couldn't force herself to do it. His touch – it sent something through her – she could smell him then, a sweet musky smell against the night air, filling her – consuming her…she was delighted by his closeness and guilty at the same time…as much as she felt when he was near, it was still impossible to imagine him with any other woman except Catherine. They completed one another in a way that she had never imagined it would be possible for two people to fit together. Diana had never subscribed to the theory of soul mates before meeting Catherine and Vincent…perhaps that was why she felt no jealousy… Diana had spent more than a few sleepless nights analyzing why she felt the way she did… she never could come up with any real answers, except that she knew she didn't love Mark the way Catherine loved Vincent – and she knew that anything short of that kind of love wasn't what she wanted.

"You will always be very dear to me, Diana," he told her softly. "Your friendship is a precious thing – I treasure it."

"I wouldn't ever expect anything more than your friendship – truthfully I'm sure I'd even expected to have that."

"But you have it, nonetheless."

"And Catherine?"

"In this I know I speak for us both – you will always have a place in our hearts."

Diana looked down at the rose bush. "Tell her thank you for me, will you?"

"I will – but she would rather hear it from you."

"I – "

"Come Below tomorrow. Jacob sleeps through most of the afternoon – it is a good time to visit."

"I – all right," she couldn't find a good enough argument to use against him.

Vincent smiled. "Good. I'll tell Catherine – I know she'll be very happy to see you again."

Diana felt him withdraw – in a moment he was gone and she was alone in the moon light, his scent lingering in the air; she looked down at two perfect rose blossoms. One white. One red. She smiled. Friendship. It would have to be enough – and yet, in some ways, it was much more than simply enough – who could ask for better friends than Vincent and Catherine?

Chancing being seen, Vincent made one more stop before returning to Catherine's apartment – Elliot was, predictably, in his office.

"Vincent?" Elliot blinked. "What's the matter?"

"Absolutely nothing. I have come only to ask a favour."

"Anything."

"Do you think you could convince Detective Tutuola to come Below with you tomorrow afternoon?"

"I'm sure I could think of something – why?" And what was that mischievous glint in Vincent's eye?

Vincent just smiled. "Than we will see you tomorrow." Perhaps, he hoped, if it was presented to her, Diana might see what everyone else had seen at Jacob's Naming…

-

"Playing Cupid, are you?" Catherine asked quietly with a grin – Fin and Diana were up ahead of them in the tunnel – Vincent had offered a 'guided tour' – and Elliot was more than happy to stay behind with the baby. His leg was still a bit stiff for long walks…besides, as soon as he'd seen Diana, he realized what Vincent was up to. Of course, so did Fin and Diana.

"I think we've been set up," Fin said to her, softly – Vincent and Catherine were lagging noticeably behind.

"I think you're right," Diana agreed, with a grin – a part of her might be angry – she didn't like being set up – but there were certainly worse things in the world than spending an afternoon with Fin. Around them, the natural beauty of the world Below – the formation of the rocks – the stream that ran along – the occasional man made arch. "Vincent," she called over her shoulder as they came to a gallery of arches. "Who made all this?" It was clearly old – far older than they'd claimed to have been living down here.

"No one knows," he said as he and Catherine caught up with them. They'd already shown them the whispering gallery and walked through the chamber of the winds. "These structures were here when Father first came – so was the Great Hall with all of its marvelous tapestries."

"I wonder if people lived down here before you guys then," Fin mused softly, looking at the stonework.

"Anything is possible," Vincent replied; he pulled Catherine close to him. Anything at all…

They resumed their walk; "Have you seen anything of Kate?" Diana asked of both Vincent and Fin, since they had seemed the closest to her.

Fin shook his head, "But she's still around."

"Do you think she'll ever find peace?" Diana queried.

"Perhaps she has found her peace," Vincent offered, softly. Kate had come to see him, after leaving Narcissa – she wouldn't say much, but he had felt the change her. _I wanted to – thank you. For everything,_ she's told him.

"Maybe she found peace," Fin said, "But she still hasn't forgiven her brother."

"Do you still visit his grave," Catherine asked him – by now of course she'd heard the full story.

"Not as regularly as I visited before. I guess maybe it was her that I was visiting after all – I feel for Andy Zito – but he brought it on himself. Kate was innocent."

"The innocent get hurt," Diana said – it wasn't just a statement of fact. It was something she hated above all other things.

"All we can do is the best we can," Fin said softly, wanting to ease the pain in her voice…

-

"I'll call you soon," Diana promised – Catherine and Vincent had walked them only half way to the park entrance – they'd arrived in the warm evening air alone and taken another long, comfortably silent walk through the park. As Fin leaned in to kiss her cheek, Diana turned – their lips brushed, just lightly. She was surprised at how tender he was – she'd expected his kiss to be hard – not forceful – but harsh. She kissed him more fully – he responded wholeheartedly, but didn't push. After a very long, and enjoyable few moments, Diana pulled away.

Fin smiled, "After that, you'd better, call."

"I will."

_Cold as the northern winds  
in December mornings,  
Cold is the cry that rings  
from this far distant shore.  
Winter has come too late  
too close beside me.  
How can I chase away  
all these fears deep inside?  
I'll wait the signs to come.  
I'll find a way  
I will wait the time to come.  
I'll find a way home.  
My light shall be the moon  
and my path - the ocean.  
My guide the morning star  
as I sail home to you.  
I'll wait the signs to come.  
I'll find a way.  
I will wait the time to come.  
I'll find a way home.  
Who then can warm my soul?  
Who can quell my passion?  
Out of these dreams a boat  
I will sail home to you._

Enya/Roma Ryan

-

Vincent walked Catherine as far as the park entrance. She wore the attire of the world Above – a floral cotton dress, suitable for a warm summer morning, sandals and her mother's pearl earrings. Her hair, which hung now almost to the middle of her back, was braided – a style she had effected to cope with the demands of motherhood and a child who seemed to delight in pulling hair. Just six weeks had passed since her return to him. It many ways, it was as if she had never been away – so much of the last six months had been put firmly behind them.

"I won't be long," Catherine turned to him; they were there – the last door. He could go no further, not during the daylight hours. In the carrier, the child fussed, just slightly, as if sensing that something monumental was happening.

"I know," He leaned in and kissed her tenderly.

With one last, longing look at the man she loved, Catherine stepped out into the morning sun. This was her first foray into the park during the day – Jacob fussed a bit and she re-arranged the blankets around him. Catherine made her way through the park – many a night had been spent walking the darkened paths with Vincent over the past month; it felt strange to be alone. Not quite – she could still feel him – near. Jacob giggled, as if sensing it himself – of course Father would have said that it was only gas, but Catherine was convince that he knew how to laugh.

"Cathy!"

She turned to see Jenny and Joe – of course, this wasn't an accident. She'd asked Joe to bring Jenny with him – they were going to breakfast before her appointment with Peter.

Jenny stopped short of barreling into her, but only because Cathy was carrying a baby, "Oh, god – is this him?" She knelt suddenly to look at the child in the carrier.

Joe laughed – he leaned in and gave Cathy's cheek a small kiss. "Good to see you – how's everything?"

"Wonderful."

"And those awkward moments?" he queried.

"Getting better. It's still a little strange," she confided. "But we're muddling through."

"What's getting better – are you ok?" Jenny looked up from the baby, concern playing across her features. She'd spent most of the last month worried sick about Catherine – Joe wouldn't tell her a darned thing, not even where Cathy was holed up…the best he'd done was take Cathy a get well card and letter from her, and bring her one back.

"I'm fine," Catherine assured her – she handed the baby off to Joe and hugged Jenny fiercely. "Although I think," she leveled a glare at Joe, "That your god son has begun teething."

"Teething?" Jenny asked. "It's way too soon for teeth!"

"Every kid develops at his own rate," Joe shrugged.

"Is Elliot joining us?" Catherine asked.

"He called – he said he'd meet us at the restaurant. I believe that our Mr. Burch had company of the female persuasion last night," Joe gave a sly grin.

Catherine smiled; it was about time. She hooked her arm into Jenny's and began walking towards the restaurant. "I missed you so much – I'm sorry I didn't come out of hiding before now – I just wanted things to blow over some before I re-emerged."

"I'm just – overwhelmed. When Joe said you were alive – I didn't know what to think!" Catherine's letter back to her had been cryptic at best – she was doing well, the baby was healthy – she was happy – and with the child's father, a man named Vincent Wells about whom she had said very little – and about whom Joe said even less, when Jenny pressed him. "What are you doing – what are you going to do?"

"Well – I'm enjoying motherhood and settling into a relationship with a wonderful man. I'm going to see my doctor this morning – but really, I'm sure I'm fine physically."

"What about – spiritually? You went through a terrible ordeal."

"I did. But that's behind me. Assuming Peter gives me a clean bill of health, I'll be back to work next week."

Jenny balked at Joe, "She's coming _back_ – you're letting her?"

Joe laughed, "You ever try to stop her from doing something she really wanted to do? As long as her doc says she's fit, I'm not gonna even try."

"Ok, so tell me about this Vincent," Jenny pressed her – Joe opened the door and handled the matre de. In moments they were escorted to a table and ordering coffee – Catherine requested an herbal tea, chamomile if the had it.

"He seems to be hypersensitive to everything I eat and drink," she explained.

"You're dodging me," Jenny accused.

"I'm not dodging you – there just really isn't that much to say. He makes me happy."

"This is the same guy you talked about once before?"

"Yes."

"And you still won't tell me about him?"

"There still isn't much to tell," Catherine saw Elliot coming and stood to greet him – they exchanged a warm kiss of greeting. "Elliot – this is my friend Jenny Aronson – Jenny, Elliot Burch."

"I know who he is – I'm just surprised that this is the Elliot you meant," Jenny couldn't quite get over it.

Elliot just smiled, "It's a pleasure to meet you," he said – then turned his attention to Jacob. "And how's my godson this morning?"

"He woke his mother and father up at three o'clock in the morning," Catherine informed him. "Mary thinks he's teething."

"And – Father?" Elliot asked – well, there were any number of things that Jenny could infer from the title.

"He muttered something about a bunch of hens presuming to practice medicine – at which point the hens pointed out that roosters don't lay eggs."

-

"Vincent."

"Father," Vincent looked up as Father entered the chamber.

"It seems so quiet in here now – I'd almost forgotten what it was like before Catherine and the baby came. It's almost - too quiet."

"They will be back soon. She had breakfast with a friend and then went to see Peter."

"Yes. I know. Vincent – I know it must be hard for you – not being able to be a part of her world, now especially."

He shook his head, "It is easier now than it ever was."

"On?"

"Now I know that she will come home to me at the end of each day – I know that she will sleep here, at my side – that I will wake to find her next to me. I know that I will see her smile every day and not just in the rare moments we were able to steal away from the world. Now it is they who must steal her brief moments from me – and I will not begrudge the world Above a few hours, for I know how large her heart is – how generous her soul."

Jacob sat for a long moment. "You are both wise and generous."

"Father – what troubles you – really? You didn't just come here to ask me how I would cope with her absence when she goes back to work with Joe Maxwell."

"No. I – I am not trying to impose my values or put any sort of pressure on the two of you."

"You wish to know if Catherine and I have discussed marriage."

"Not just that. I am – I have concerns. I worry about you – more than anything, I want the two of you to be happy together."

"We are happy, Father – you must stop worrying so. Whatever will come, will come – whatever our relationship is to be, it will be. Our love was complete long before it became physical – and if it never becomes physical again, how could I complain? To have known her touch once, I was given a son – what more could any man desire than the love of a family?"

Jacob smiled, "I – only want for your happiness."

"Than know that we _are_ happy."

-

Catherine was greeted by the sounds of the pipes and the familiar scent of the earth – she tapped out an announcement of her return and had been said hello to by nearly everyone before she even saw their faces. Vincent awaited her at the foot of the great stairs with the warmth of an embrace. "How was your visit Above?" He took the baby carrier from her – they walked slowly, arm in arm. Her company was truly all the joy he could ever have needed…

"Peter says we're both in perfect health – and that Jacob is teething. He expects him to develop a little faster than what he called 'textbook normal', but doesn't think it's anything to worry about. He wants us to think about birth control – he's sending me to see another doctor."

"Should I ask?"

"He has some ideas of what might work best – I told him we hadn't really discussed the possibility of having more children…"

"Catherine – do you wish to have more children?"

"I don't know – I hadn't thought about even having one until he happened. Since then – I've been taking each day as it comes – each joy that I'm given is a blessing. Each moment with the two of you is a miracle for which I'm thankful – but I suppose it is something we should talk about. Can I ask you how you feel about it?"

"I'd never considered that it was even possible – and I still do not remember what happened – if I hurt you –"

"Oh – Vincent – did you think – is that why you've been so – shy?"

"I couldn't live with myself if I hurt you, Catherine. Look at me – at these hands – at this body – I could crush you."

"Do you want to know what happened that night?"

"I do – but I have been afraid to ask."

"You were consumed with your own rage – with fury, with pain – with every dark emotion in your soul. But greatest of those was fear – when I came to you, it wasn't to quell the fury – it was to ease the pain. To chase away the fear – I can't say exactly how it started – but something happened between us – an invisible energy. I came to you – you were curled up – I touched you. I felt your fear – when you looked at me, there was no hunger in your eyes, only pain – so I kept touching you, kept holding you, until you responded to my touch. That's when it happened – you were timid at first," she smiled at the memory. "So timid I was almost afraid that I would hurt you – gently you pulled me to you – you kissed me with such passion – from there," she just looked down at Jacob. "But you were so terribly gentle – through your fear and your pain, you were tender – soft – careful. You never, ever, hurt me. Not ever."

"I have always been afraid that I might have hurt you," he confessed, softly.

"That is one thing you need never fear," Catherine assured him.

-

Taking one last deep breath, Catherine climbed out of the Tunnels and into the basement of a Janet Greylie's store, Hodge Podge. Hodge Podge was located just eight blocks from the District Attorney's office in Manhattan – and Janet had been a Helper for as long as anyone could remember, living in the small apartment above the shop. She sold Cullen's wood carvings, Elizabeth's paintings, Tilla's hand woven treasures and anything else created by those who lived Below – all at ridiculous Manhattan prices.All of the profit went towards the purchase of those items for which those who lived Below could not barter – although the Helpers provided much, the artisans Below had long worked to ease that burden by selling their crafts in the world Above.

"Good morning, dear – my, if you don't look radiant," the older woman smiled; her skin was dark and her hair more grey than black – she was a little on the heavier side and wore a long tunic of African print silk over matching pants; a long scarf hung around her shoulders. She pressed a mug of fresh coffee into Catherine's hands. "Ready to come back to the real world?"

Catherine smiled, "The real world is down there – up here is just an illusion."

Janet nodded, "Well, you have yourself a good day in this illusory world of ours. No, no, keep the cup – you can bring it back on your way home tonight."

Catherine smiled her thanks.

-

Stepping into the D.A.'s office was like stepping back in time – it didn't help that she became the immediate centre of attention. Rita was the first one off her feet to give Catherine a hug – others followed – Joe poked his head out of his office door after a few moments, "Ok, people – there's still work to be done. Radcliff – you got a minute?"

Catherine accepted and gave a few more hugs before making her way to Joe's office. She closed the door behind her. He was staring. "What?"

"It's just good to have you back, Radcliff."

"It's good to be back," she smiled at him. Then asked what was the matter, because he just kept staring at her like wanted to say something but wasn't quite sure how...

"I've been confirmed as District Attorney until the next election. And – I wanted to know if you'd like to take my old job?"

"Joe – are you sure? There must be more qualified people here."

"Maybe – but no one more committed."

"I – think you might want to reconsider that offer anyway."

"Why?"

"Remember when I was asking you about the maternity leave policy…?"

-

"A Christmas wedding?" Father questioned – a wedding itself was surprise enough, though certainly it was a welcome one – a little over six months away seemed reasonable – but Christmas? Did people get married on Christmas?

"Laura is getting married in the fall," Vincent explained. "Catherine and I wanted some time between ceremonies and tells me that she has always dreamed of how lovely a Christmas wedding would be…and there is another thing, Father."

"Oh?"

"Peter believes that Catherine will have our second child in the beginning of December."

_Fin_…

…_for now…_


End file.
